I Can Feel You
by Slayed825
Summary: When Santana sees something in Rachel that reminds her of herself she sends Rachel into a tailspin and down a road she never thought she'd travel. Faberry/Brittana
1. Chapter 1

Alas, Glee does not belong to me. However, the premise of this story does.

Pairing: Quinn/Rachael & Santana/Britney

Spoilers up through Funeral episode

Ratings: Hell, Rate it M, cause I'm sure this will have lots of cuss words. And maybe more. Wink.

I Can Feel You, Chapter One

Jesse St. James wasn't just an ass, he was a freak. A freak born of misplaced drive. Rachel just sat and stared at him dumbfounded when he told the Glee Club that they should focus more on winning Nationals than helping Coach Sylvester plan her sister's funeral. What? Huh? Did he really just say that? I mean, this was the guy that she USED to be in love with. In fact the guy that she was considering re-dating. Was that any kin to re-gifting? Hmmm…

Rachel stood up, smoothed out her skirt and looked at Jesse pointedly. "You!," she stated, pushing the words out forcefully and accentuating each one as if it stood alone, "Are! Pathetic!" she huffed. "I thought you had changed this time. I thought you had grown. But, NO. You are the same small-minded, egotistical, uncaring, sorry excuse for a human being that you always were!" The small diva flounced her hair with her hand, turned on her heels and did a major, and perfect, Diva storm out, her hips swaying fiercely and disappearing as the choir room door slammed behind her.

"Wow, St. Dumbass. Guess you won't be having a Berry Sundae anytime soon," Santana smirked. "Even I'm not THAT callous."

"What?" Jesse complained, looking slightly befuddled. "I was just being realistic. I mean, you do want to WIN nationals don't you?"

"Not at the expense of our souls," Santana replied, standing and perfectly replicating Rachel's departure. Britney stared after her, slightly slack jawed. "Wow, did that just happen? Santana actually agreed with Rachel?," she thought. A small smile appeared on the not-so-dumb dancer's face.

Finn glared at Jesse. Quinn glared at Finn. Mercedes yawned. Kurt smirked and Puck, well, Puck just didn't care one way or the other really. Mr. Schue sighed and ran his finger along the collar of his vest. It was going to be a long way to Nationals, even if it was just two weeks away.

When Santana left the choir room her mission was to seek out a certain diva. She didn't really know why. I mean, Berry was short, annoying, slightly self-absorbed and it wasn't like the two girls were best friends or anything. It was a rare occasion that Santana was even nice to the midget. Hell, she could count on one hand the amount of times they had been involved in a civil conversation. But recently Santana had seen something in Rachael that reminded her of herself, which was just downright scary. She sighed and headed toward the girl's bathroom, sure that Berry would be crying her eyes out in the toilet. She wasn't disappointed. Well, maybe a little bit, because she expected the girl to be sobbing, not fuming.

"Stupid. Jerk. What. Is. Wrong. With. Me?," Berry was punching and kicking the bathroom stall door. The door, swinging violently on its hinges, popped back and hit Berry on her forehead.

"Ow. Shit. God. Stupid," Berry cussed, holding her head in her not-so-manly hands.

To her credit Santana didn't let out a loud guffaw. She did, however, slightly grin.

"Whoa there Sparky! Chill with the assault on the poor inanimate object," the ex-cheerio said. "You know, and I know, that he just isn't worth it."

Rachel jumped at the Latina's words. "San . . . what are YOU doing here?" she half yelled, half whimpered.

"I . . . Well, I don't really know, " Santana replied.

Rachel looked at Santana perplexed and Santana glared back. The diva slumped against the bathroom wall and slid down to sit on the cold tile floor. Head in her hands, she started to quietly sob. "I'm such an idiot," became her snuffled mantra.

The Latina quietly sat beside the small diva and rested her hand on her arm. "No Rachel. You're not an idiot. You just need someone to talk to. Really talk to. Like, honestly talk to."

"What do you mean?," the diva asked through more sniffles. She glanced at the other girl, slightly confused.

"You, Rachel Berry, need a friend," the Latina said. "And so do I. And. For some strange reason I want it to be you because I think we're more alike than I actually want to admit or you actually want to acknowledge."

Rachel stared at the other girl. This was the longest paragraph that didn't include an insult that Santana had ever said to Rachel since they met in first grade.

"I can feel you Rachel. I know. I get it, ok?" Santana replied to the strange look coming from the diva. "So . . . friends?" she said, offering her hand.

Rachel wasn't so sure she understood everything the ex-cheerio was trying to say to her, but she wasn't going to let this opportunity bypass her. Santana Lopez was NEVER nice. Hell, Rachel wondered if she was even human most of the time.

A grin formed at the edge of her mouth and Rachel took the proffered hand.

"So. Your house. Let's go Sparky!" the new nickname rolling off the Latina's tongue. "I don't do bathrooms for serious convos. Let's roll." Santana stood up, reaching down to pull the diva to her feet.

Well, Rachel thought. This is going to be interesting.

The small diva followed Santana out of the bathroom and they made their way through the hallways to the parking lot, noticing the strange stares they were receiving from the rest of the McKinley population, which happened to include a flummoxed looking Quinn Fabray.

Eyes wide, Quinn watched the pair walk side by side out into the sunlight. Was the world coming to an end?

Rachel and Santana were sitting in uncomfortable silence on the couch in the Berry's living room. Neither girl knew what to say. The diva was, for once, scared to open her mouth for fear of either spooking the beautiful Latina or inciting her wrath. She shifted nervously, wringing her hands which she held together in her lap. The Latina was staring at her thoughtfully.

"So…" Santana blew out, almost like a sigh.

Rachel's eyes went wide, waiting expectantly for whatever words of wisdom the Latina was going to bestow upon her. Nothing came.

Santana continued to stare. The silence grew like a chasm.

The ex-cheerio began to chuckle, slightly at first, until the nervous laughter became a loud belly-wrenching guffaw. Rachel stared at her as if she had developed the first signs of crazy. This whole scenario was a little nuts to the diva. Why in the hell was she sitting in HER living room with Santana Lopez, of all people? And what did the Latina mean when she told her, "I Feel You."? What exactly was THAT supposed to mean? And why did the Latina even care? Or did she? Was this some convoluted set-up where the entire hockey team would descend at any moment with 32-oz slushies and a video camera?

"Look Santana," Rachel began. "If this is some sick joke, I'm really not in the mood for it. I have far better things to spend my time on than watching you sit on my couch while you dissolve into fits of laughter." The small diva began to stand up as if to challenge the Latina and usher her out of the Berry living room.

"No. Rachel," Santana began, wiping the tears of laughter from her eyes. "I'm not laughing at you. Promise. I'm just recalling earlier. You totally crushed that idiot. Did you see the look on his face? He soooooo deserved it."

The diva gave a slight grin. "You . . . You called me Rachel!" she said, the grin now developing into a full-blown smile.

"Well, that's your name, isn't it?" the Latina replied.

"Yeah, but you've never used it before. It's always Berry, or Midget, or RuPaul or some other form of a put-down. Why now? Why today?"

"Well . . . Rachel," she said, elongating the girl's name, "I've come to realize that we have something in common, something that I wasn't so sure about until I started to observe you. Since I really don't have anyone to discuss this with, I thought perhaps you and I could, like, be supportive of each other. Friends actually. Maybe we can help each other. And maybe we can both get what we want in the process."

Now Rachel was really confused. She didn't have ANYTHING in common with the Latina. Except Glee Club. That was about it. They were like night and day, broccoli and peanut butter, steak and hummus. What could Santana possibly think they had in common?

At the bewildered look on the other girl's face, Santana reached out and gave her a playful punch to the arm. "Come on Rach, you know what I'm talking about," she grinned. "You're Lebanese too!"

Rachel Berry promptly fainted.


	2. Chapter 2

Don't own em. Wish I did.

Thank you for all the reviews and for all those who read and gave the story a chance. I hope you enjoy this chapter as well.

Rated M for Language in this chapter.

I Can Feel You, Chapter 2

Santana let out a small squeak at the sight of Rachel fainting on the Berry's living room floor.

"Oh, helllllllllllll no," she breathed, hunkering down on her right knee and grabbing Rachel's face in her hands. The diva's head lolled back and forth with no response.

"Rachel," Santana tried, her hand on the diva's jaw, attempting to revive her. No response. "Berry!" she half-yelled. The girl still didn't come around. The ex-cheerio started shaking the diva's head gently. "Wakey-wakey berry cakey!" Oh, hell, that was just disgusting.

The Latina put her mouth near the singer's ear. "Yo Man-Hands! Wake the fuck up!" she screamed.

Rachel's eyes sprang open and she immediately sat up, banging her head against Santana's forehead in the process.

"Shit! Ow, Ow! Fuckin' clumsy midget! Damn it!" Santana swore, holding her head in her hands. Rachel wasn't fairing much better.

Rachel half stood, half fell and made her way to the security of the couch, mumbling slightly under her breath. She glared at the ex-cheerio, who continued to pace the room, cursing and holding her hand to her forehead.

"You're like a truck driver with jock itch, a cigar and a tanker filled with ethanol. You just kind of sit back and wait for disaster to strike and you're never disappointed," Santana sighed.

Rachel stood, indignant, realized there really was such a thing as double-vision, and promptly sat down. She continued to rub at her temple. Twice in one day. Oh well, at least it wasn't the nose.

"Did I, Rachel Berry, just faint?" she questioned. "I have never fainted in my entire 16 years of existence. Oh My God! I had the vapors and I'm not even from the South! " Rachel became animated, her hands moving in time with her speech.

"Chill-it Sparkzilla!" Santana said, reaching over and grabbing the other girl's hands. "Calm your ass down before you're rug toast, or toast for the rug, or lying on the rug again. Yeah, that's it. Don't get yourself all worked up again and fall out on me. Shit!," she rambled nervously.

Rachel giggled at Santana's lack of verbosity. As she started to remember what led to her sudden fall out, her mouth settled slowly into a frown.

"Santana," she said, trembling slightly, "Uh… before I fainted, passed out… whatever, did you call me a l l lesbian?" Rachel stuttered out the words.

Santana looked surprised and an evil smirk formed at the corner of her mouth. "Well yeah, carpet muncher! Welcome to the club. Wait a few weeks and your brand new toaster oven will arrive in the mail along with a signed tennis racquet from Martina!"

Despite her aching head Rachel jumped to her feet, full diva mode revving. "Ms. Lopez, I'll have you know that such derogatory comments are not welcome in the Berry household. While this may be your sorry attempt to lighten the mood, I, for one, am not amused! I find such statements the lowest form of wit, acerbic, wholly disenchanting and downright insulting. And I am most sure that Martina would not appreciate her tennis racquet being brought into the subject. Besides, I'm not gay."

"Oookay, " Santana said. "Denial much?"

"But . . . but .," Rachel sputtered. "I'm not. " The diva gave a convincing laugh. "Where on earth did you get such an idea and isn't it YOU that has the whole 'gay' issue going on? Not that I am opposed to those of the same sex engaging in romantic practices seeing as how I, Rachel Berry, am the daughter of two completely adjusted, productive fathers who have 20 years of marital, and yes, I did say marital, as in a "real" marriage of the utmost commitment and loving relationship, bliss. Yes, bliss, under their belts. I see nothing unusual, unholy or unattractive about two people who love each other joining as one, no matter what their gender may be. Man and Woman. Woman and Woman. Man and Man. I fully support LBGT rights and all it encompasses. I have joined in Pride parades, helped pass out LBGT literature and in general have been fully supportive and downright PROUD of my two gay fathers. But I am not gay, have never thought about being gay and have never even found myself looking at another girl in any "gay" way. So, Ms. Lopez, I do not know what this is about or where you procured this strange and unusual idea, but no. Just No. I am not now nor have I ever been in denial about who I am or how I identify sexually."

Rachel seemed to be proud of herself for setting the Latina "straight?" She let out a large breath of air and sat back on the couch, crossing her legs at the ankles.

Santana just chuckled. "Okay Berry. So if I told you that not only do I think you're a lesbian, but I also know FOR A FACT that a certain Quinn Fabray has a big ole gay crush on one Rachel Barbara Berry, it wouldn't faze you in the least?"

Rachel's heart stopped for at least two beats. The room became eerily quiet. She almost whimpered. "What did you say? I don't believe I heard you correctly Santana."

"Come on Rach. You heard me. That's right. Quinn wants to take Berry for a spin," she chuckled. "And she was kind enough to ask her sweet frienemy Santana to set things up for her. Yep. Quinn's definitely in for a big ole slice of Berry pie."

Rachel shook her head. She must have hit her head harder than she thought because her ears were definitely ringing. She frowned.

"Oh well. I'll let her down gently Rach. I'll tell her that while you would love to be friends with her and maybe go shopping or have a friendly sleep over, you know, having manis and pedis but absolutely NO touchy-feely, that you just don't swing that way. She'll be devastated but she'll get over it. Quinn will just have to find herself a 'real' lesbian to satisfy her needs, I guess." Santana sighed, looking disappointed.

"Uh." Rachel let out. Santana began to move toward the front door.

"It's okay Rach. We can still be buds. Maybe you can help me and Britt finally get our mack on!"

"No.. uh Yes. Uh.. No. Uh. Yes?" Rachel stuttered. Santana reached for the door knob.

"Wait!" Rachel yelled, grabbing the back of Santana's shirt and twirling her around.

"Umm… you don't have to say anything to Quinn today Santana. I mean, give a girl a chance to absorb all of this."

"Berry you don't have to feel obligated to return any affections. I'm sure Quinn will find herself some new chick by the end of next week. Yeah, she really wanted a chance to date you, but you know, you said it yourself. You're 100 percent straight. It's okay Rach, really. I'll let her down easy."

"Anyway," the Latina sighed. "It's not nice to string her along with lofty hopes of winning your heart."

"She really feels that way?" Rachel questioned, stunned. Her eyes were bright and her palms were starting to sweat profusely.

"Why would you care Berry? Really, you don't always have to be so nice. I mean, the girl did torture you for years before she finally came to realize that she was just torturing you to get your attention."

The Latina was openly smirking.

Rachel's stomach began to churn. She couldn't let the Latina leave this way. No. No. Why? Why? Shit! The idea of Quinn liking her dumbfounded Rachel. She had never let herself even think about Quinn in any way other than a "Run Like Hell Here Comes The HBIC" way. Did she? But now, with the idea of Quinn Fabray swirling in her mind, the diva began to get warmer than she thought possible.

"Tell her I'll do it! I'll take her out!" Rachel said quickly.

Santana sighed. This little ploy had gone a little too far and now she was starting to feel quite guilty.

"Berry," the ex-cheerio said, rather sheepishly, "I'm fucking with you!"

Once again, Rachel was stunned. Her heart pummeled and her lip began to quiver. "I knew it! I knew it! This was just some cruel joke to make me look like an idiot!" Thoroughly embarrassed, Rachel now began to get mad.

"You are such a bitch! You just wanted to set me up and hurt me!"

"No Rachel, I wasn't trying to set you up," Santana whispered gently. "I was trying to set you free."

The diva deflated slightly and tears began to roll down her cheeks. Santana felt even guiltier. She reached out and pulled the small diva in for a hug, drawing small circles on her back with her thumbnail. "I'm sorry Rach. I didn't mean to make you cry. Really I didn't." Shit, Santana hated to watch any girl cry.

"Look Rachel. I see how you stare at her. I've noticed how many times you've tried to befriend her. And honestly, I can't say that I completely understand why you feel the way you do about Quinn, but I could tell that you didn't even KNOW what you were feeling. I guess you have a lot to think about, huh?"

"Yeah," Rachel said, the words washing over her in waves. "I guess I do." The Latina continued to hug her.

"Look," she sighed. "Years ago when I started to feel more for Britt than one should feel for their best friend, I didn't even know what I was feeling. I just knew that it was like I never wanted to leave her presence. It was like she could swallow me whole and I wouldn't even care. It took a long time to realize what that feeling really was. Now I know and I'm stronger for it."

Rachel looked up at the Latina who still had an arm slung around her back. She smiled. Santana smiled back.

"I'd find myself staring at her when she wasn't looking. Shit, I still do to this day. I'd try to imagine what it would be like to kiss her, to touch her. When we started high school and boys really began to become a part of the picture I used the whole 'let's make out to attract their attention' ploy to become closer to her and get what I wanted in the process. But, eventually, even that wasn't enough," the ex-cheerio chuckled softly.

"Now I know what I want. I know how I feel. I just don't know how I'm going to make it happen," Santana admitted. "I'm still fucked up Rach. I just know what that fucked up means now."

"But Santana, Brittney does love you!" Santana gave her a doubtful look.

"Quinn doesn't even know I'm alive," Rachel stated. "Well, actually she does know I'm alive but half of the time I think she wishes I wasn't."

"I wouldn't be so sure about that," Santana said. Rachel pulled back from the embrace and gave her a funny look.

"Don't fuck with me again Lopez!" she growled.

"Look, I'm not going to sit here and tell you Quinn is mooning over you or anything remotely like that Sparkey, but you're not the only one I've noticed giving stares lately!"

"Oh." Rachel said, letting the possibilities sink into her exhausted thoughts. "Her mind is probably just working overtime to come up with more original insults."

"Maybe," Santana conceded. "But for some reason those stares are softer they should be for someone who is supposed to hate you."

Rachel just shook her head.

"Look, I'm gonna go now," the Latina stood, heading toward the front door once again. "We'll talk after Glee tomorrow. Don't be mad, ok?"

"Ok. But you're still a bitch!" Rachel smirked.

Long after Santana made her exit a small perplexed diva sat in deep thought, her mind twisting with possibilities and none of them included Jesse St. James.


	3. Chapter 3

Don't own em. Wish I did.

Hope everyone is enjoying the story – and … off we go!

Author's Notes: Character's personal thoughts in italics.

Rated M

I Can Feel You, Chapter 3

**No Way, Who's Gay?**

Rachel stood at her locker. Her hair was tousled and her eyes were red. She had a slight tension headache as she had spent all night pondering the whole "Quinn" situation

"Not gay," she thought to herself. "Nope. Nada. No repressed lesbian tendencies here." In fact, today she was going to prove it to herself fully. Today Rachel was going to make sure she tested herself in every way possible, of course without making a complete fool of herself or becoming actively involved in any type of serious female to female groping. Yep. Rachel had a point to prove and true to her obsessive compulsive tendencies, she had even made a list of things she was going to try to experience in order to prove to herself that she wasn't Gay for Fabray!

Putting all of her notebooks, pens, books and other assorted class materials in her pink book bag, Rachel closed her locker and made her way to homeroom. She found her usual seat in the front of the classroom and opened her notebook to "the list." The classroom was empty, as Rachel was her normal 30 minutes early. She liked this time of day as it allowed her to be alone with her thoughts. This was her personal time when she could organize the day before her, check her schedule, formulate any unforeseen diva rants and generally plan, plan, plan! It wasn't easy being this driven and Rachel knew it would only add to her character as she continuously strove to fulfill her dreams of becoming a Broadway legend.

She stared at the paper before her. In the middle of the night she had scribbled her list down in order to get out as much soul-seeking as possible. Now she planned on making sure she had properly formulated her mission.

Rachel Barbara Berry's Foolproof Plan To Prove Her Non-Attraction to Quinn Fabray:

Speak to Quinn without rambling or getting bitch-slapped.

Ask Quinn how her day is, without being annoying. Smile demurely. Do NOT show teeth.

See if Quinn is interested in walking to Glee together. Do NOT trip over your own feet.

Open the door to the choir room for Quinn, casually.

Check out Quinn's boobs without her noticing. Do NOT Salivate.

Check out Quinn's ass without her noticing. Do NOT Salivate.

Accidentally bump into Quinn so that you can be in physical contact with her.

When your eyes meet, go for the gold, grab her by the back of the head and force your tongue . . . .

OH MY GOD! Seriously? Rachel squeaked. Crap! Crap! The small diva didn't even remember writing the last four items on that list.

_This is ridiculous_, Rachel thought_. I've never even looked at Quinn sideways much less thought about her ASS before Santana put all this crazy stuff in my head. So what if Santana caught me staring at Quinn? Maybe I just find the beautiful cheerleader interesting. Beautiful? Oh boy, that can't be good. I can't help it if she's easy on the eyes. And her body! Wow, she's really been successful in getting that perfect figure back since last year's pregnancy. And those eyes. Those brilliant hazel eyes. I could drown in . . . _

Slam! Rachel jumped, putting her hand on her heart, her eyes darting to the classroom door. Santana stood, hands on her hips, a big cheesy grin donning her face. "Sleep well Berry?" she slyly asked. "Whatcha got there?"

Rachel slowly closed her notebook, picked it up and cradled it in both hands as she drew it to her chest. "Nothing."

"Doesn't look like nothing, Sparkey," the Latina grinned. 'Let ole Santana take a peek." The ex-cheerio moved to grab the notebook away from Rachel. Rachel slightly stood, placing the notebook between her rear-end and the chair as she quickly sat and began to bat the Latina's hands away.

"You have no right to my personal belongings Satan," Rachel huffed.

Santana chuckled. "Alright, Alright Rach. Just messing with ya. Look, you and I gots to talk. We're going out tonight! "

Well, this was new. "Santana I know you think we're of the same romantic persuasion, but seriously, I'm not going to date you. While I think you're a very attractive, though slightly demented, girl, I'm simply not interested in you like that and besides, you're in love with Britney!"

"Ewwwwwww Berry! Really?" the Latina cried. "Look you whacked out midget, I'm not asking you to go out on a date with me, I'm asking you to go out with me as a friend. Like, hang and shit. I've found this really cool place and I need someone to go with me so I can check it out. K?"

Rachel sighed and rolled her eyes. "And why do I have to go with you Santana?"

"Because," the Latina hissed. "I needs you to. I can't do this by myself Berry."

Uh-oh. "Ummm… Santana, what is this place?"

Santana made a muffled reply.

"What did you say? I didn't understand you," Rachel asked again. 

"Damn it Berry! I said, it's a new gaaaaaaaaaaay bar! Ok! Happy? Satisfied?"

"Look Santana, I'm not going to a gay bar with you, ok."

"Come on Rach. Puleeeeeeze?" The small diva shook her head. "No way Santana. Not doing it! Besides, we're underage."

"No, no. You don't have to be 21 to get into this bar."

"Still not going."

"Yes you are."

"No, I'm not!"

"Are."

"Not!"

The two girls continued this way for almost two minutes before Rachel final blew out a large sigh and slumped in her seat. "Why is this so important to you?"

The Latina looked at Rachel sheepishly. "I've dressed up, travelled 30 minutes and made my way to the front door of this club every Friday night for the last four weekends," Santana said. "But, once I get there, right at the front door, ready to walk in, I lose my nerve. Every time I turn around and walk back to my car, get in and drive away. I'm tired of being scared."

Rachel looked the ex-cheerio in the eye. She saw that she was serious. "Alright Santana. I'll go if it means that much to you."

"Seriously?"

"Yeah, I'll do it," Rachel replied, smirking at the large smile that appeared on the other girl's face.

"Yes!" Santana screamed, pumping her fist in the air.

"Besides," Rachel said. "If it's 30 minutes away I'm sure no one from McKinley High will see us there and even if they do we won't have to worry about anyone thinking that 'we' are together. Well, together like_ that_."

"And that's the truth!," the Latina smirked, still elated. "Pick you up at 7 p.m. Berry. But first, see ya in Glee."

"Yeah," Rachel smiled back. "See ya in Glee."

The Latina bounced out of the room as other students began to file in._ Damn, how did she talk me into that? _

**Hot As Hell**

The rest of the small diva's day was largely uneventful until 3 p.m. hit and Glee practice was getting ready to start. The heat was suddenly turned up to "Hot as Hell." At least, that's how it felt to Rachel.

The singer had just stuffed all of her things back into her locker and was shutting it, preparing for Glee, when she felt a small tap on her left shoulder. "Look Santana," the diva began, slowly turning. "I said…" And she stopped. Instead of the smirking brunette she expected, Rachel found a smiling blonde. Smiling being the key word.

"Uh, hi Quinn."

"Berry," the blonde replied, still smiling.

"What can I do for you this fine day?" the small diva asked, proud of herself for not stuttering.

"Oh. I was heading to Glee, saw you and figured we could walk together," the blonde answered. Rachel mentally shook her head. She did just see a pig fly past the window, right?

"Sure Quinn, anything for a fellow glee clubber."

The two girls began to slowly walk down the hallway. Rachel quickly remembered her "list." Now was the time to set her plan in motion. Well, some of it anyway, she mentally grinned.

Before she could formulate a sentence in her mind, Quinn actually started a conversation.

"So, hobbit.. I mean, uh.. Berry, why did you do it?"

Do it? "Do what, Quinn?" the singer asked, perplexed.

"You know. Yesterday. You totally laid Jesse out. That was actually pretty cool," the blonde answered.

_She thinks I'm cool! Wow, I never thought that sentence would come out of Fabray's mouth. Hmmm… _

"Well, he was being a grade-A jackass! To think that I actually thought about dating him again!"

Rachel glanced at Quinn. The blonde was sneering. "Really Berry? You would date him again after the egg incident? Come on!"

"Well, I thought he had changed, " the diva defended herself.

The two girls stopped just outside the choir room door. Quinn glared at her intensely. So intensely that Rachel found herself backing up against the concrete wall, the blonde slowly following her footsteps, almost involuntarily. Now the two girls were but inches apart. They were so close Rachel could almost feel Quinn's breath on her face. Rachel could feel her palms sweating and her cheeks were flushed.

"Quinn?" Rachel questioned.

Quinn lifted her hand and ran a cool finger down Rachel's jawline. "You're so forgiving. Why are you so forgiving Rach?," the blonde whispered. The small diva was having a hard time keeping her eyes open. The ex-cheerleader leaned in slightly. The close contact was making Rachel heady. Her vision was swimming.

"Would you forgive me, like that?" Quinn softly questioned, her hand trailing around to the back of Rachel's neck. Brown eyes stared into hazel. Rachel was mesmerized. Quinn was slowly pulling her in, becoming closer and closer to the smaller girl.

"You're so beautiful, Quinn," the singer softly said, almost inaudibly. Quinn tilted her head, a small smile playing on her lips. She blushed slightly.

Booming laughter broke the spell the two girls were under. They pulled back self-consciously. Down the hall Dave Karofsky had just slushied a poor geeky freshman. The hockey players were laughing loudly and slapping Dave on the back like he had just scored the winning point.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "So, what are you doing tonight?" she asked.

"Huh?" Rachel replied, dazed. _Quinn's asking me to go out? WTF?_

"Tonight Berry! Do you have plans for tonight?"

_Yes, I'm going to spend all evening wishing I hadn't told Santana I would go to a gaaaaaaay bar with her instead of saying yes to whatever it is that you are asking me to do. _

"Uh yes. I do have a prior engagement," Rachel answered without enthusiasm. _Fuck._ _I should just tell Santana to forget it. But I can't do that, she looked so sad earlier. Fuck again! _

"Oh." The blonde looked slightly disappointed. _She's actually upset that I have other plans._

"Why?" Rachel inquired. _Tell me Fabray. Tell me you're asking me out. Come on, do it!_

"Never mind Berry," the ex-cheerio said, turning toward the choir room door. _Oh, hell no!_

"Quinn!" Rachel said a little too sharply, halting the blonde in her tracks. She turned back toward the small diva. "Yes, Rachel?"

"What were you going to ask me?" _Tell me, Tell me, Tell me._

"Look, it's nothing really. A bunch of us have planned to get together and go dancing. No biggie! I just thought you could tag along. Another time, maybe?" _Oh yeah, I'm gonna kill Santana._

"Definitely," Rachel retorted as the blonde turned once again and made her way into the choir room.

Rachel took this opportunity to take a peek at Quinn's backside_. Yep, definitely Gay for Fabray! _

_Oh for the Love of All Things Barbara, I think we're in big trouble._


	4. Chapter 4

Don't own em. Wish I did.

Author's note: Character's thoughts in italics

Second update of the day. I just had to write this chapter to get it out. I hope you enjoy!

I Can Feel You, Chapter 4

**Just Dance**

Quinn waited a bit impatiently for Kurt and Mercedes to arrive. She was pacing back and forth in her living room, mumbling under her breath. _Why did I do that? What in the hell was I thinking?_ Quinn was going over the day's events in her mind. She didn't mean to get that close to Berry. She definitely didn't mean to touch her and she certainly didn't mean to ask her out – and get rejected at that!

Rachel constantly infuriated her and Quinn couldn't figure out why. Well, other than the trying to steal her boyfriend drama, and the telling Finn that it wasn't his baby stuff. But that was water under the bridge and the girls had tried to be at least civil toward one another in the last few months. Oh, well, there was that bitch slap at the prom, but hey! Then Berry had to get all sappy on her and make Quinn look at her differently. Now she found herself sneaking glances at the small diva when she didn't think she was looking. Did Rachel _really_ think she was beautiful?

She and Finn weren't together anymore and it was actually a relief. She wasn't sure why she tried to rekindle that long-dead romance. Oh yeah – Prom Queen. Well, that certainly didn't work out. Now Quinn was on the market again and she wasn't really in the mood to have any casual relationships or date just "anyone." No, if she was going to date someone this time around, it was going to count!

She was actually looking forward to tonight. Half of the Glee Club was getting together to go out and dance. Quinn loved to dance and going out with friends ensured that she wouldn't be having any random hook-ups. Why she opened her big mouth and invited Rachel she couldn't figure out. But, the girl wasn't going anyway, so Quinn didn't have to worry about the queasy feeling she got in the pit of her stomach every time she looked at the small diva lately.

Tonight was Britney's idea. She and Artie weren't together anymore and Santana and the dancer hadn't mended any broken fences. So, Britney had asked Quinn, Kurt, Blaine, Mercedes, Tina and Mike if they wanted to go to this new dance club with her. Puck and Lauren had a previous engagement and no one wanted to invite Finn, for obvious reasons. Not to mention that he couldn't dance his way out of a paper bag. It sounded like fun to Quinn. Just dancing along with her friends. No pressures. No having to be something she wasn't. Yeah, tonight she was going to allow herself to just live in the moment and relax.

So why was she pacing her living room? Why did her thoughts constantly travel to earlier this afternoon and the heat she felt emanating from Rachel? For a few minutes there, in the McKinley hallway, hazel eyes locked with deep brown, Quinn had felt a mad desire to kiss the singer. Just thinking about it made her heart jump and that familiar queasy feeling intensified.

Quinn Fabray was NOT attracted to girls. And she certainly wasn't attracted to Rachel Barbara Berry, diva-extraordinaire. No way. No how.

_I wish they would hurry up and get here so I can quit thinking about this. I don't want to think about this. She looked so fragile and so . . . sexy. I just wanted to sink my teeth into her neck and claim her for my own. God, I'm losing it. What is wrong with me? _

Quinn was pulled from her unwelcomed thoughts by the sound of a horn blaring outside.

_Finally. Now I can just go and have fun. A Berry-free evening. And dammit, I am not going to waste my time thinking about Man-Hands all night long. Quit it! Don't call her that. You are so mean. And her hands are ANYTHING but manly. Shut up conscious! I can think any damn thing I want. Yeah, you sure can . . . Mu HA HA HA. Oh, for the love of . ._ .

Quinn exhaled deeply, grabbed her jacket and exited the house. Kurt's LTD was packed with Glee clubbers, Britney half hanging out of the passenger side window waving frantically at Quinn. Lady Ga-Ga was blaring from the car's speakers and the bass was thumping. Quinn's friends were bouncing to the beat. She smiled widely and entered the backseat.

"Ready to get your dance on girl?," Mercedes asked.

"Oh yeah," Quinn smiled. It was going to be a fun night.

**What Angle Is This?**

"She did what?" Santana asked in disbelief.

"I think she was going to kiss me," Rachel answered, still slightly dumbfounded.

The pair had just pulled up in front of the gaaaaaaaaaay bar and was sitting in Santana's car, recapping the strange turn of events centering around Quinn Fabray.

"Damn Rach. You shoulda just jumped her ass!"

"Santana, puleeeze. Do you have to be so vulgar? One doesn't just 'jump' Quinn Fabray's 'ass.' She deserves more respect than that. She deserves to be treated like a lady, to be wooed, to be adored like the fragile flower she is," Rachel began to rant in true diva form. Suddenly she stopped, looked at Santana's amused expression and mentally face palmed. "I did NOT just say that."

"You did."

"Didn't"

"Did!"

Rachel sighed. "Ok, I did. This is all your fault."

"Isn't."

"Is."

"Isn't"

"Is!"

"Look Berry, are we going to do this all night long or are we going to get on with it?," The Latina questioned, motioning toward the club in front of them.

The gaaaaaaaaay bar was a four story building which looked as if it was once some type of warehouse. The outside had a fresh coat of many colors – all colors of the gay rainbow. A flashing neon sign declared, "The Pyramid." "Well, it certainly looks like a cheerful place," Rachel noted. "Why are we here, anyway? I mean, I thought you wanted to get Britney back, not troll for new interests."

"It's not about that, midget!" Santana barked defensively. Seeing the slightly hurt look on Rachel's face, she deflated instantly. 'Look Rach, the reason Britt and I aren't together is because I'm having a hard time being okay with 'me' and all that being 'me' entails. It's not about her. She's Brittney and she's secure in being all that Brittney is."

The diva nodded, trying to understand what Santana was telling her.

"I'm scared Rach. I'm scared to be who I am. I didn't choose this. I didn't choose to fall in love with Britt. I just did. It was like breathing. Until I can be okay with letting the world see who I am I don't deserve her love. I'm not going to put her through that shit. I've put her through enough."

"So, you're here so you can better understand what it's like to be a lesbian?" Rachel started to nod, understanding.

"Well, I figure if I can be around other people like me and be comfortable with them that I'll eventually start to be comfortable with myself," the Latina explained.

"Ok. Well, why not try to join a support group, or a gay church or something like that?" Rachel questioned.

"Because," the Latina grinned. "This is way more fun!"

Rachel chuckled.

"Anyway, this way I can also help you come out to yourself," Santana reasoned.

Rachel squeaked indignantly. "No fair. Yesterday I was perfectly happy to believe that I was perfectly straight until you had to come along and mess all that up for me. Now I find myself staring at Quinn's ass, thinking about Quinn's lips, wondering what it would be like to grab her and.."

"Okay, Okay. Enough Berry! I don't needs to hear details about your perving thoughts. Geez already! Anyway, you can't tell me you hadn't thought about it before yesterday," Santana smirked.

Rachel just grinned sheepishly. "Come on Satan, we're gonna get you through the door this time!" she said, rapidly changing the subject.

Rachel could see the Latina mentally steeling herself. She looked over, gave Rachel a huge grin and said, "Thanks Berry. Come on, let's get our lesbian on!"

**Oh No, She Didn't **

The Glee Clubbers thumped down the road, music blaring from the car speakers and each teen singing at the top of their lungs. Well, except for Mike, who was definitely dancing in his seat but not vocalizing.

"Oooh.. Kurt, turn left here," Brittney pointed.

A quarter of a mile down the road, the music still thumping, Brittney screamed. "Here. Stop. Here. There it is!" she said, pointing to a large brightly-lit and loud building.

Kurt slammed on brakes in the middle of the street. He looked over at Brittney in shock and to the backseat at Mercedes, whose eyes were as large as his. Kurt turned the radio off. "Uh, Britt, this is the place?" he questioned, voice shaking slightly.

"Hell yeah!" Blaine said from the middle of the front seat. Kurt's mouth turned up in a large toothy smile. Mercedes chuckled. Tina and Mike were oblivious, mooning over each other and not really paying attention. Quinn just stared. _Oh my God. As if my day could get any worse._

"Yay!" Britney squealed. "It's soooooooo pretty. I'm so glad you could all come tonight. I've never been to a cheerleading club."

Quinn looked up at the sign. "The Pyramid."

"Uh, Britt. This isn't a cheerleading club," her friend said gently.

Brittney looked perplexed. "Sure it is Q. Look, it says Pyramid and everything. And look at all those bright colors. It's just like cheerleading camp with all the different teams and all the different colors of the rainbow. I saw the advertisement in the paper. It clearly said that all people were welcome, whether you were a bottom or a top." Brittney smiled brightly.

Kurt, Blaine and Mercedes were doubled over in laughter. "What?" the blonde said innocently.

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Nothing, Britt. Nothing."

"Well, my lovelies. Tonight is definitely going to be an eye-opener," Kurt said, pulling into a parking space. Blaine's eyes shone brightly at his boyfriend.

"You got that right," Mercedes smirked. "Come on Quinn, let's give the lesbians something to drool over!"

_My life is hell_, Quinn thought as the teens piled out of the car and began to walk to the front door of "The Pyramid."

After they were properly carded by the bouncers guarding the door, had paid the entrance fee and received an "underage" stamp on the inside of their left wrist, the group slowly began to make their way through the club, looking for a table large enough to seat everyone.

"Oh Look!" Brittney pointed, bouncing up and down happily. "There's San. And," she slightly frowned, "Is that Rachel with her? Wait a minute. Rachel's not a cheerleader."

So, Quinn thought, face beginning to flush. This is why Berry turned me down. She had a date with Santana! Quinn's blood began to boil and she saw red. As if pulled by a magnet she stomped through the crowd and stopped in front of the table where the two girls were sitting, apparently in deep conversation.

Rachel saw a movement out of the corner of her eye. A very fierce _blonde_ movement. _Okay, I'm seeing her everywhere now. Obsessed much? _

Rachel looked up warily right into the dark hazel eyes of one very pissed off Quinn Fabray.

"Quinn!" she squeaked.

"Berry," the blonde pushed out, obviously angry.

Another blonde head appeared from Quinn's left shoulder.

"S!" Brittney exclaimed happily, pushing Quinn aside, making her stumble backward. She propelled herself into a shocked Santana's lap and gave the girl a massive hug. She began to plant kisses on the Latina's face.

"Britt," Santana cried as she held a bubbling mess of happy blonde. "Britt, what are you doing here? And why is Q with you?"

"I brought everyone!" Brittney said proudly. "I wanted to try out the new cheerleading club."

Santana looked at her confused and then looked at Quinn questioning. 

"The Pyramid," Quinn said, as if that explained it all. Understanding formed on Santana's face.

"Right, the new cheerleading club," Santana shook her head in the affirmative. Rachel smirked.

"Who is _everyone_?" Santana asked Brittney.

As if on cue Kurt, Blaine, Mercedes, Tina and Mike appeared.

"Satan," Kurt nodded toward the Latina. "Broadway," he said to Berry. The two girls nodded back at the slight teen.

"I don't even want to know WHY you two are here TOGETHER," Kurt said as if he was trying to swallow an unsavory dish. "But, since we're all here we might as well make the best of it. Slide over."

The Glee clubbers began to pile into the booth previously occupied by the two girls. Somehow Quinn ended up beside Rachel, their sides pressed together closer than sardines.

Everyone began to chatter away at each other. The music pulsated loudly. Quinn was beginning to become quite warm with all the close body heat, especially the body heat emanating from her left.

She turned her head slightly to look at Rachel. "So, Santana, huh?" the blonde whispered.

Rachel's eyes got big. "No! No! It's not like that!" the diva protested.

"What is it like, Berry?" the ex-cheerio asked, hazel eyes smoky and downcast. She was once again drawn in to the smaller girl beside her. They were way too close to each other for Quinn's comfort.

"I don't know," Rachel replied with a sultry tone. "Why don't you tell me?" The diva was staring at the blonde's lips. Quinn felt herself begin to fall, once again.

"Let's Dance!" Britney yelled over the music, startling Quinn and Rachel out of their staring contest.

The Glee clubbers began to pull and tug each other out of the booth, heading toward the dance floor.

Quinn and Rachel stayed put. Neither wanted to move away from the other.

"Wanna dance?" Quinn questioned, shyly.

"Might as well," Rachel answered. Quinn took her hand and led her toward the dance floor.

_Was this real?_


	5. Chapter 5

**Don't Own Em, Wish I did **

**Author's Notes: Character's thoughts and song lyrics in italics. **

**Spoilers up to New York Season Finale. Story does not necessarily follow the show's storyline. **

**Sorry this update took so long – work was crazy this week. **

**Rating: M **

**I Can Feel You, Chapter Five **

_**You Give Me Fever**_

Quinn lightly held Rachel's hand as the pair made their way onto the dance floor, joining their friends who were bopping away to the music.

_Dance the night away_

_Live your life and stay, young on the floor_

_Dance the night away_

_Grab somebody, drink a little more_

Rachel smiled at Santana who was dancing across from her, busy mouthing the lyrics to Brittany who was playfully singing the lyrics back to her. The Latina looked very, very happy.

Quinn had dropped Rachel's hand and was busy shouting something into Mercedes' ear. The large diva put her head back and laughed loudly. Brittany danced over to Rachel and encircled her waist with long arms. "Come on Rach. Dance with me and San," the blonde said.

Everyone was having a good time. Kurt and Blaine had faced off with Quinn and Mercedes and were twisting and turning the girls around the dance floor. Rachel allowed herself to be pulled into Santana and Brittany's arms where they all danced in time with the music. Mike and Tina joined in and soon the group was trading partners left and right, just having fun being together.

After three or four more songs Rachel became a little overheated. "I need to go get some water," she said in Brittany's ear, glancing over at Quinn who was dancing with Kurt. "K, we'll come with," the dancer said, locking arms with Santana and pulling her off the dance floor.

A pair of hazel eyes followed them the whole way.

Santana pushed her way to the bar through the dense crowd of people, her right hand firmly gripping Brittany's who was also holding onto Rachel. "Two waters for my peeps and I'll takes me a nice cold Heineken," the Latina ordered.

Santana just received a smirk from the bartender, who was a tall woman with close cropped hair and a small diamond in her nose. "Three waters coming right up Spice!" she said with a lazy grin. Santana scowled.

"I knows she didn't just call me Spice," Santana grumbled to Brittany, chest inflating.

"Uh San, I'd leave it alone if I were you, please?" the blonde half-begged, checking out the bartender's biceps.

Brittany had a point. "Yeah, don't wants to mess up our fun night." Brittany gave her a winning smile and grabbed her around the waist firmly, putting her head on the Latina's shoulder. Santana's mouth twitched upward. Rachel grinned at the pair.

"See, I told you," she mouthed silently over Brittany to the Latina. Santana's grin broadened.

The music began to slow down a bit. Rachel looked through the crowd and spotted her friends on the dance floor. Quinn was laughing at something Kurt was whispering into her ear. The blonde glanced up and caught Rachel's eye. The diva quickly looked away, embarrassed at being caught seeking her out.

_Never know how much I love you _

_Never know how much I care_

_When you put your arms around me_

_I get a fever that's so hard to bear_

_You give me fever_

Rachel's ears perked up at the song choice. Beside her Santana and Brittany were in their own world, staring into each other's eyes heatedly and swaying to the music. Rachel grew brave and looked again to the dance floor. Quinn was staring right at her even though she was dancing with Kurt. Rachel blushed. Her feet started moving with purpose toward her friends when suddenly a very tall solid obstacle stopped her movement.

Rachel glanced upwards and locked onto the bluest eyes she had ever seen. Full lips pulled back to reveal a sparkling white smile. Rachel shook her head a bit. "Um, I was walking here!" the diva said, a bit mesmerized, a bit irritated.

"I'm Carlin," the tall girl said with another winning smile, holding out her hand to the small diva.

"Rachel Barbara Berry," the singer said, with a slight smirk, gripping the other girl's hand softly. "What can I do for you this fine evening?"

"I was going to ask you if you'd like to accompany me to the dance floor?" the girl asked, somewhat shyly.

"Ummm. I don't know if that's such a good idea," Rachel replied, glancing around the taller girl to seek out Quinn, who seemed to be in some conversation of sorts with Mercedes.

"Oh, I'm sorry, " Carlin said with sincerity. "I guess a beautiful girl like you must be here with your girlfriend." Rachel let her eyes wander over the girl before her. She was quite beautiful herself. She was about 5'7", blonde hair that flowed to her shoulders, those amazing blue eyes and she was decked out in a tank top that showed her well-muscled biceps. _Not bad._

"Ummm…" Rachel once again glanced at the dance floor but realized that Quinn wasn't paying her any attention. _Fine. If she won't pay any attention to me, let me give her a reason to._ "Sure. Let's dance," Rachel said.

"Great," Carlin said with a smile, grabbing Rachel's hand as they moved to the dance floor.

Carlin held Rachel warmly though not too tightly as they began to sway to the music. _This is wrong. I'm just dancing with her to make Quinn jealous. Not that she isn't beautiful, but seriously. Have I allowed myself to stoop to this level? I've gotta say something. Shit. _

"Uh, Carlin, look. I gotta tell you something." Rachel, standing on her tiptoes, whispered in the other girl's ear.

"Um. Is it that you're head over heels for that blonde over there who is trying desperately to pretend that she doesn't care if you're dancing with another girl?" Carlin smirked.

Rachel pushed herself away from the blue-eyed girl, and glanced over at Quinn who indeed had her eyebrows raised. "How… How did you know?" she asked, dumbfounded.

Carlin chuckled. "Look, don't be mad, okay?"

Rachel shook her head to indicate that she was listening.

"My buddies and I zoned in on you the minute you walked in the club," Carlin motioned to her left where a group of six or seven girls were laughing and punching each other on their arms. "I, um.. I kinda won the challenge."

"The challenge?" Rachel questioned, icily.

"Yeah, um… they bet me that I couldn't get you to dance with me," Carlin said sheepishly.

"Bet you?"

"Yeah, like for beer and stuff. I just won! Next rounds on Kat. Yep. Not that I wouldn't ask you to dance without a bet, but seriously, it's kinda obvious that you only have eyes for one girl in this place."

Rachel blushed profusely. "Oh my God! Is it really that obvious?"

"Well, yeah, it really is. At least to me it is, but I'm not so sure about your friend."

Rachel let her head dip to Carlin's shoulder in embarrassment. "Kill me now."

"Hey," Carlin said, forcing Rachel's eyes to connect with her own. "Wanna have a bit of fun and get me more beer in the process?"

"I'm not kissing you Carlin," the small diva huffed.

"Who said anything about kissing," the taller girl smirked. "Unless you want me to lay one on you, in which case . . . " Carlin dipped her head closer to Rachel's. The small diva pushed her back gently and drew in a trembling breath.

"No. No thank you. I'm good," the singer proclaimed. Carlin chuckled.

"Look, let's just dance so I can win me some beer and we'll end up making blondie a little jealous at the same time." The blue-eyed girl smiled at Rachel. Rachel smiled back and nodded her head.

Quinn Fabray was quietly fuming while trying to exude a calm exterior. _Why do I give a shit who Man-Hands dances with? I mean, I don't want to dance with RuPaul. Will you please quit calling her names, for God's sake! Why in the hell is she dancing with some tall bimbo with freaking biceps larger than my calves? God God! I'm gonna go over there and . . ._

"Aw, doesn't Rachel look cute?" Brittany and Santana had made their way back to the dance floor and were swaying together beside Quinn and Kurt.

"Whatsamatter Quinn?" Santana smirked. "Did somebody steal your midget?"

Quinn's face turned blood-red. "What?" she squeaked.

"I'm just saying," Santana mused, the corners of her mouth twitching. "Wow, did she just kiss her?"

Quinn's head snapped up to where Rachel and the other girl were dancing. She saw the other girl get very close to kissing _her_ Rachel and Rachel pushing her back a bit. _Oh for the love of all things holy. Leave it to Rachel to be accosted by some kissing demon. I've gotta rescue her. I've got to go over there and put an end to this. Yeah, she'll thank me. I'll be her hero. Yeah. I would do this for any one, right? _

Santana laughed evilly as Quinn flounced across the floor to Rachel. "Oh, B. This is gonna be so good." The Latina put her arms back around her bubbling blonde companion and make sure she had a good view of the coming "show."

Carlin felt a hard poke in her left shoulder. A little too hard for her liking. She loosened her grip on Rachel and whipped around to meet fierce hazel eyes. _Crap. Maybe this wasn't such a good idea._ While the girl before her couldn't weigh more than 110 soaking wet she exuded a confidence that made Carlin take a step back. "Uh. Yes?" she inquired.

"Cutting in!" the hazel-eyed beauty stated, pushing Carlin out of the way with almost no effort. Quinn grabbed Rachel by the waist and pulled her toward herself fiercely. Normally Carlin would be fuming at this point, but Rachel locked eyes with her as if to say," Please?" and Carlin deflated instantly. Besides, she had already won her beer and got to dance with a gorgeous brunette in the process. Rachel was really too young for her anyway and who was she to come between unrequited love?

"Okaaaaaaaaaay," she said and walked toward her boisterous friends.

"S, I think Q wants some of Rach's sweet lady kisses," the dancer whispered into Santana's ear.

"I know B, I know," the Latina smiled and pulled her girl into a fierce lip-lock.

Quinn held Rachel tightly as both girls stared into each other's eyes. The last lyrics of "Fever" flushed through their bodies, each girl not willing to look away from the other.

Now you've listened to my story,

Here's the point that I have made

Chicks were born to give you fever

Be it Fahrenheit or centigrade

They give you fever

When you kiss them

Fever if you live, you learn

Fever, till you sizzle

What a lovely way to burn

What a lovely way to burn

What a lovely way to burn

"Hi," Quinn said shyly.

"Hi," Rachel whispered.

The two swayed together gently, even though a faster song was now playing through the loudspeakers.

"So,"Quinn said nervously. "I guess we should, um, go and see what, um, everybody, um, wants to do?"

Rachel smiled. "Yeah, I guess so."

The two girls went back to their friends, but not before Quinn reflexively reached down and joined her hand with Rachel's. The brunette had a goofy grin donning her face. Her eyes glanced over the side of the room to lock with Carlin's, who was giving her a thumb-up. The diva's smile broadened.

**Songs:**

**On the Floor by Jennifer Lopez**

**Fever by Ella Fitzgerald**

**No copyright infringement meant.**

**Thanks for reading. Have a few days off so I'll try to update again very soon.**


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's Notes: **

**Wow! Thanks to everyone who is continuing to read this story. I am floored and appreciative. Also, thank you to everyone who is reviewing this story. It helps me to know what you like and what you don't. It also makes me smile. Thank you. **

_**Character's thoughts in italics. **_

**Rated: M**

**I Can Feel You, Chapter 6 **

_**A Helluva Ride**_

Santana was whipped. Tonight had been both emotionally and physically draining but the Latina was happier than she had been in quite a long while. This was it. She and Brittany were actually together for real this time and with no mistaking that fact. Santana was head over heels in love with her best friend and she knew that Brittany felt the same. Finally. The Latina was ready to be who she truly was deep inside and she didn't give a damn who knew it.

As she and her friends were exiting the club, Brittany definitely riding with her and the midget, a thought formed in Santana's mind. "Yo, Q. Come on, ride back with us three. That way Kurt doesn't have to drive all over creation dropping everyone off." The slight boy smiled his thanks to Santana.

Santana had paid close attention to what was going down between Sparky and the Ice Queen throughout the evening. It was push and pull. One minute the two girls were staring at each other intensely and the next they were ignoring each other blatantly. The ex-cheerio was kinda tired of watching it. It was painful. She was giving Quinn an in-road. Hell, she loved Quinn, even though their relationship was all kinds of fucked up and had been since kindergarten. But it always seemed that whenever either one needed the other that the other girl always had their back. Santana had learned a long time ago that Quinn and she were more alike than either wanted to admit.

Quinn looked at her quizzically. "Yeah, okay S. Whatever." Rachel was trying to hide her smile.

The group split into two with hugs, goodbyes and see-ya's all around. Mercedes was busy exchanging numbers with some drag queen who she had formed a kinship with that evening. To everyone's amusement the pair had done a perfect rendition of "It's Raining Men," when the night turned from pure dance music to karaoke.

Mike and Tina were quiet but happy. Kurt wasn't even sure if the two Asians had even realized they had just gone to a gay club. They had spent the entire night glued to each other, fawning over each other in their own little world. Kurt rolled his eyes at the pair. Blaine caught the sentiment and pecked his boyfriend on the cheek. "Please don't ever let us be that oblivious," he whispered in Kurt's ear, receiving a smile.

_Fuck. Now I have to ride in the backseat of S's car with Rachel. Crap. Why did I just agree to this? I just played into Santana's hands. If she doesn't stop calling me a pressed lemon I'm going to put her head in a vise grip. Mu Ha Ha. I'll show her pressed. God, why in the hell are my palms sweating? Oh, this is not good Fabray. Not good. _

Rachel was having her own internal monologue_. She's over there thinking something. Oh God. What is she thinking and why does she keep looking at me like that? Is she nervous too? It's just a ride home for God's sake. It's not like I'm going to jump her in the back of the car, even though I wouldn't mind . . . _

Santana could see the wheels turning in Rachel and Quinn's heads. She was becoming impatient. "Alright, bitches. Get your asses in the car. I ain't gots all night."

"Be nice, San," Brittany chastised, lips all pouty. Santana just opened the passenger's side door for her girl and pecked her gently on the cheek, giving her an "anything for you" look.

Rachel and Quinn both jumped in the backseat, a little anxious to be in such close proximity. Their emotions were flying all over the place. Santana started the car and, without warning, flew out of the parking lot at super-sonic speed; jostling the two girls in the backseat and making them slide closer together. She looked in the rearview mirror and smirked at Rachel, getting a "you're so dead" look in return.

Santana reached over and grabbed Brittany's hand, encasing it in warmth. The blonde smiled brightly and brought the Latina's hand to her lips, kissing her knuckles sweetly.

"Oh for God's sake," Quinn spouted. "This is sickening!"

"Shut it Q. Just cause you can't find the nerve to grab the hobbit there, don't be dissing me and Britt's style!"

Rachel turned five shades of red and looked down to the car seat's upholstery. _Yep, nice leather there. Nice leather. Nice shade of grey. Yep._ Rachel was running her finger over the seat, smirking to herself. _Gonna kill Santana . Yep. Gonna kill her. Gonna put her in an ice cooler and bury her at sea. Wonder where I could get a boat? Oh yeah, my neighbor, Mr. Tomlin, does have that john boat. It wouldn't really take much . . . _

Quinn had effectively shut up. She was kind of scared to breathe. Santana and Brittany were busy cooing to each other in the front seat and Rachel looked like she was in the same shape as Quinn.

She looked over at the small diva and caught her eye. Just like every time the two looked at each other lately Quinn found herself drowning in beautiful brown depths. _This girl is the most beautiful girl I've ever seen in my entire life. Why didn't I see this before? Was I blind? Why do I feel this way? I'm not gay! I can't be gay. Hell, I was a cheerleader for God's sake! Well, there is that movie. . . Oh. Wow. I never knew her eyes were that amazing. Oh my God! I'm gay. Shit. I'm gay. I'm so gonna get kicked out again. Do I care? No, not right now I don't. Fuck it. I'll live on the street; just let me never stop looking at Rachel. _

Santana would every now and then glance back at the midget and Q. She could tell that something was going on back there but she wasn't so sure what it was. _Let's turn up the heat a bit, shall we._ Santana smiled evilly, checked to make sure another car wasn't behind her and applied the brakes a little sharply, reaching over to make sure Britt was safe and protected before she did so.

The car weaved slightly and veered to the right, effectively making Quinn slide into Rachel and Rachel grab Quinn so that the two wouldn't be slammed into the side of the door.

"What the fuck, S?" Quinn complained.

"Kitten," Santana answered, as if that explained it all.

"San, there wasn't a . . ." Brittany began but Santana reached over drew the dancer into a fierce kiss, muffling her words. She evened out the car and began to drive once again.

Quinn and Rachel stayed put, neither one wanting to disentangle their selves from the other. _Fuck it. Oh, just fuck it. I don't care if she rejects me or not, I'm gonna go for it._ Rachel, her left arm already around Quinn's waist, reached over with her right and grabbed the blonde's hand, holding her in place. To her surprise Quinn allowed it and began to rub her thumb over the back of the diva's hand.

_Ok. She's rubbing my hand with her thumb. She's not pulling away. God, how are her hands so soft? I'm holding her. I'm actually "holding" Quinn Fabray. I must be dreaming this. She hasn't slapped me yet. She's breathing kind of heavy. Oh shit. So am I! She's so close; I could just reach over and . . . _

"Well looky, looky, who's gonna be getting some pu…," Brittany slapped her hand over the Latina's mouth.

"Baby, stop!" she pleaded. Santana began to chuckle loudly.

"Oh my God, I know you did not just almost say that!" Quinn squeaked. "Vulgar, much?" Rachel reached over and smacked Santana on the back of the head. Hard.

"Ow! Midge! You are so dead!"

Rachel just gave the Latina a "bring it on" look. Brittany started giggling, lightening the mood.

Surprisingly, Quinn did not pull away from Rachel but actually leaned back and pulled the smaller girl toward her, Rachel's head falling on Quinn's shoulder, her arm strewn across her waist. _This like so works. I could really get used to this. _

Santana turned the radio on low and the four girls got lost in the music as they made their way back to Lima, Ohio.

The Latina decided to drop Rachel off first because she wanted to have a heart-to-heart, bitch-fest, whatever you could call a serious convo between the two girls, with Fabray before she dropped her off.

"Alright Midge, Get out!" Santana said, pulling up in front of Rachel's two-story brownstone. Rachel looked at her with disdain. She huffed slightly and opened the door. "Hold up, Midge, gotta say something to ya before you go."

Santana exited the car and pulled Rachel from the backseat, much to Quinn's annoyance. She pulled her away from ear-shot of the other girls. "Hey, look Sparky. You know I gots to roll all bad-ass and shit, but I wanted to tell you, like sincerely, from the depths of my black heart, I really appreciate you going withs me tonight. Like, for real."

The small diva smiled largely and pulled the Latina in for an awkward hug. "I'm glad you and Brittany got together tonight Santana. Is this a permanent thing?"

"Yeah," she said with a grin. "I'm pretty sure it is." Rachel punched her on the arm in good spirits.

All of a sudden Rachel was lying on the ground in front of her house, an exuberant blonde straddling her waist and kissing her on her cheeks. Brittany had come in for a sneak attack. "Oh, Rach, I'm so glad you and San are friends now. And we can all be friends and do stuff together, like go to the park and look at the ducks. I'm soooooooooo happy." The dancer was cutting off Rachel's circulation and she was squeaking, trying to catch her breath.

"Britt . . . I . .. can't . . . breathe. . . here. ." Santana reached down and pulled the bubbling blonde off her new friend, laughing.

"Come on baby, let's let Sparky go night-night." Brittany reluctantly rolled off Rachel and extended her hand, helping her to her feet. She gave her a last hug and followed Santana back to the car where Quinn was standing, looking at Rachel hopefully. The small diva cleared her throat and walked up to the ex-cheerleader, shyly.

"So . . ." the blonde began.

"Yeah, uh. I had a good time tonight Quinn," Rachel answered the unspoken question.

"Me too," the blonde said sheepishly.

"So, uh," Rachel was nervous. She didn't know what to do with her hands. "I guess I'll see you in Glee."

"Yeah, Rach. See you in Glee," Quinn said, somewhat disappointedly as Rachel turned to make her way into her house. The blonde stood there for about two seconds before making a decision.

"Rachel. Wait!" she called. Rachel turned around to see Quinn covering the distance between them.

"Yes?" she questioned, hopefully.

Quinn wrung her hands together. "Um. What are you doing tomorrow? Cause if you don't have plans you could come to mine. I could invite Britt and San and we could all hang out by the pool? I mean, it is Saturday, after all."

"I'd love to!" the small diva said brightly. _Wow, Fabray just asked me out. Or, asked me to come over, Or asked me to do something, Or, WOW! Okay! Cool. Wow, is this, like, a date?_

"Great," Quinn said, more shyly than before. "Come over at 11 a.m., k?"

"Sure Quinn. I'll be there," Rachel answered, excited.

The blonde turned and walked toward the back seat of Santana's car. Rachel felt something, some type of joy bubbling in her and before she could question herself she found her feet running the distance between the two. "Quinn!" she said, grabbing the other girl's arm and turning her to face the small diva.

"Ye. . ." but Quinn was cut off by Rachel's mouth descending on hers. Her senses were assaulted with the smell of vanilla and a hint of strawberry. She felt her eyes literally slam shut and Rachel's hand, not manly in any sense of the word, was stroking her jaw. The kiss was actually quite chaste, but to Quinn it felt like her world had exploded. The kiss lasted about two seconds but for Quinn and Rachel it felt like it had went on for hours. The two girls clung together, foreheads pressed as one, neither one trusting their voice to even whisper a simply goodbye.

Rachel pulled back, dazed. Quinn felt heady. Had that really just happened? _Oh, my God, I can die a happy woman now. _

Rachel walked backwards to the front porch of her house, never taking her eyes off Quinn, who had a goofy grin spread across her face. She raised her hand and waved shyly. Quinn waved back and watched as Rachel went into her house and shut the door.

She blonde continued to stand by the backseat of Santana's car staring at Rachel's house, dumbfounded.

"Okay, get your lesbian ass in the car, Tubbers. Me and Britt want to get our mack on and we don't have all night while you stand there stupefied. Get over it, you kissed the midge!" Santana laughed.

"You are such a bitch, S," Quinn said as she pulled herself together and got in the car.

"Yeah, but you wouldn't have it any other way."

Santana did have her serious convo with Quinn as she drove the dazed blonde home. Brittany joined in and helped explain the finer points of a lesbian relationship to the ex-cheerio, who just nodded dumbly and kinda drooled a little bit. The two friends actually had to walk Quinn to her front door, as Brittany pointed out to Santana that she felt that Q was in shock.

"Hey Q," Santana said right before the blonde closed the door of her house. "We'll see you at 11 a.m. tomorrow and we'll bring some alcohol to set the mood. Can't wait to see your expression when you see the Midge in her bikini."

_Oh For All The Tea In China. I am soooooooooooo screwed. Why is this my life? Why?_ Quinn quietly shut the door with a nod of her head and traipsed up to her bedroom where she fell out.

As Santana and Brittany made their way back to the Latina's car, Brittany looked at her sideways. "That was sooooooo mean San. You know how repressed Quinn is. Why do you do that to her?"

"It's fun," the Latina said simply. Brittany grinned.

"Oh, and by the way, Miss Pierce, what the hell was all that crap about a cheerleading bar?"

Brittany's grin turned into an evil smirk. "I overheard you ask Rachel to the gaaaaaaay bar," the blonde admitted. "Glad you finally got your head out of your ass and lesbianed up!"

"Me too, B." the Latina admitted. "B, why do you always put on the dumb blonde act? I mean, you're one of the smartest people I know."

"And why do you, Miss Lopez, always act like the bitch that we both know you're not?"

"Because it's fun," the two girls answered in unison, chuckling with each other knowingly.

"You're beautiful, San," Brittany said, turning serious as she pulled the Latina toward her.

"And you," Santana answered, "Are all MINE." Santana Lopez gave the girl she loved one of the softest kisses known to man, ah.. woman. And as the two drove to Santana's house for the night two other girls sat in their respective bedrooms, fingers tracing their lips, deep in thought.

Tomorrow was going to be one hell of a day.

**Note: I'm going to try to update again soon, but this coming week Is crazy so please forgive me if it takes a while. I hope you all enjoy this and leave comments if you have anything you'd like me to write into the story. Also, the Mike and Tina "I don't realize I'm in a gay bar thing" came from a Review from ScorpioP, who questioned if they realized exactly where they were. I started thinking and, well, no, they didn't because they are always so wrapped up in each other. Thanks! Enjoy! **


	7. Chapter 7

**Disclaimer: Come on, we all know that I don't own them. Damn! **

**Character's thoughts in italics**

**Rated: M **

**I Can Feel You, Chapter 7 **

_**Stormy Heart, or, Crap, there go the lights! **_

_Act as if, Act as if, Act as if._ This was the mantra storming through Quinn's brain as she threw clothes about her room, searching for the absolute perfect outfit. It was 10 a.m. Saturday and she had but an hour before Rachel was to come over. _You are not infatuated. You are not crushing on Man-Hands Berry. Damn it, if you don't stop calling her names I'm gonna kick your ass. Well, that would look kinda funny seeing as how I am you. Stop it. _Quinn sighed in frustration.

Quinn had hardly slept more than an hour but she was wide-awake, her nerves on edge as she anticipated the day before her. She must not act a fool. She must remain calm, cool and collected. She must NOT attack Rachel and she must NOT blatantly check out her body.

Digging through her bottom drawer, Quinn pulled out a soft teal bikini she had purchased a month ago after working so hard to get her figure back from the pregnancy. She tried it on, checked herself out in the mirror and smirked. _Damn Fabray, not bad._ Not bad at all. Quinn pulled on a pair of loose fitting black short-shorts over her bikini bottoms but left her top as it was. She plopped a plain black baseball cap on her head, backwards, giving her a bit of a "butch" look, despite her flowing blonde hair. She looked in the mirror again, pleased with the vision before her. Spraying just a touch of Chanel No. 5 on the inside of her wrists, Quinn Fabray smiled. _Yup. Game on, Berry. How do you like me now? _

A few blocks away Rachel Berry was having difficulties of her own. _Okay, I've got to get rid of these ridiculous clothes with animals on them. What in the hell have I been thinking? It's like a second-grader dresses me. Aren't my fathers supposed to be gay, for God's sake? Are they blind?_

Rachel was throwing shirt after shirt over her shoulder, hangers hitting the floor and bouncing to and fro. She was currently wearing her bikini, a simple black high-cut number, the top strapless. Sighing heavily she decided on a pink tank top and jean shorts with flip-flops. She pulled her hair up in a ponytail, Quinn-style, and checked herself out in the mirror. _Not bad Berry. Not bad._ Rachel donned a pair of Ray bans, slung her day bag over her right shoulder and proceeded down the steps of her brownstone. She had 15 minutes to get to Quinn's house. Always super prepared, Rachel was going to be slightly early.

Quinn was touching up her makeup when she heard the doorbell ring. 10:55 a.m. _Shit. Leave it to Berry to be here early. Okay, act as if, damn it!_ The blonde bounded down the stairs and slung the front door open forcefully. Rachel took a step back. "Quinn? Are you alright?"

"Oh, yeah. Hi Rach. Sorry. Didn't mean to scare ya," the blonde smiled. Rachel smiled back. The girls suddenly became lost again, eyes meeting shyly but at the same time sharply. Drowning, Drowning. Quinn felt herself shiver slightly.

"Um…" Rachel began.

"Oh. Sorry. Come in Rach. Santana and Britt should be here soon. I was just getting ready." Rachel's eyes panned over the ex-cheerio. She looked really cute in that hat_. Wow. She's really been working hard. Her abs are awesome. _Rachel blushed at the thought.

"Do you want something to drink?" Quinn asked, heading toward the kitchen. "We have water, all sorts of juice, some diet soda and some tea, I think."

"Oh. Tea sounds good." The singer followed the blonde into the kitchen, checking out her surroundings. Quinn's house was amazing. Her mom must really know how to decorate because everything was very high priced, in its place and simply elegant. "I love your house," Rachel said appreciatively.

"Thanks. It was a combined effort," Quinn explained. "I'm good at picking things out but Mom's the real decorator in the family. I can't seem to put it all together, but she just has a knack for it."

"She certainly does," the diva replied, her eyes wandering from room to room. Quinn gave a genuine smile. She was proud of her mom. Ever since her dad left she and her mom had become closer and closer and they both shared a love for making their home beautiful. It was one of the things that made them feel more like a family.

"So, do you want to go sit by the pool and wait for S and B?" Quinn started walking toward a set of French doors. Rachel nodded. She felt comfortable, more comfortable than she thought she would.

Quinn's pool was massive. "How deep is it?" Rachel asked, apprehensive.

"Ten feet at the deep end. The shallow end is three." Quinn wiggled out of her shorts and threw them on a nearby lounge chair. "Coming in?" Rachel's mouth dropped. _Close your mouth, Close your mouth. Do not drool. Do not drool. _

Berry cleared her throat. "Sure, but I must tell you now, I'm not much of a swimmer so I'll probably stay either attached to the side of the pool or in the shallow end where I will feel the most secure. I never really took the time to learn the finer qualities of swimming, though God knows my fathers tried. I just never took to the water and to be quite honest, I'm a little scared so I hope no one has any immediate plans for water fights or throwing each other in the deep end because I'll probably drown or go into shock or have a coronary or something equally dangerous and embarrassing."

Quinn smiled at the small diva. _Damn, she's cute when she rambles. Did I just think that? Man, I've got it bad!_ "It's okay Rach. I'll protect you."

Rachel smiled brightly and proceeded to wiggle out of her tank top and jeans shorts, folding them neatly and setting them beside her day bag next to the lounge chair.

_So much for not checking her out. She certainly has the body of a dancer. I wonder if I could get her to dance with me?_ "Come on in Berry. I promise not to let you drown." Quinn put out her hand and clasped Rachel's gently. Talk about electric shocks. The taller girl led her to the steps at the shallow end where each girl gently eased their feet into the water. It was a little chilly but nothing they couldn't stand. Slowly they eased themselves the rest of the way in, the water now up to their waists.

"Relax Rach. I promise, nothing is going to hurt you," Quinn said comforting. Rachel smiled and allowed herself to sink to her knees, the water reaching her chin. "See, it's not so bad." Quinn mirrored the girls' movements, sinking beside her.

"Hold onto my sides. I'll take you for a ride," Quinn said, realizing after the fact how that must sound, but the diva didn't seem to notice. Rachel looked uncertain.

"Trust me. I promise I won't let you go." Smiling, Rachel acquiesced, putting her arms around Quinn's waist. Suddenly the two girls realized just how close they had become. Quinn made a point not to look the small diva in the eyes for fear that she would accidentally let both of them sink. Instead she flipped on her back and began to effortlessly move them through the water. Rachel held on for dear life. Quinn was a strong swimmer and soon the pair was on the other side of the deep end. Rachel giggled.

"This is fun. It's like you're my own personal float," she laughed. Quinn straightened up and grabbed a hold of the other girl as she began to tread water.

"How about I teach you how to float on your back?" Quinn asked. Rachel shook her head no.

"Come on Rach, it's easy. I promise I won't let you sink."

"Can we go back to the shallow end for this?" Rachel said nervously.

Quinn smiled and floated them back through the deeper waters. Once Rachel's feet were on semi-solid ground she appeared to be less nervous.

"Okay, lie back in the water. Here, I'll hold your shoulders." Rachel did as Quinn asked, looking up into deep hazel eyes. Quinn met her gaze. "Now, exhale gently and let your lower body float to the surface. Image yourself weightless."

Rachel tried to comply but kept sinking to the bottom. Quinn giggled.

"Rach, you have to relax or it won't work. I'm not going to let you go. Promise."

The small diva tried again. This time she succeeded. Quinn began to pull her gently through the shallow end. Rachel had to admit that this was pretty relaxing and, she realized for the first time, she really did trust Quinn.

Rachel was still floating and Quinn was holding her. Their eyes were locked. Rachel stopped and let her feet sink to the bottom, twisting in Quinn's grasp until she was facing the blonde. Instinctively Quinn let herself get closer to the small brunette. They both held each other lightly as they floated through the shallow end. Rachel picked her feet up and wrapped her legs around Quinn. The blonde was a bit surprised but a wide grin graced her face. Rachel let go of Quinn's neck and her upper body sank back into the water but she didn't submerge as Quinn was holding her tightly_. Wow. She looks super-hot. She's so soft and those legs, those amazing legs are wrapped around me. Fuck, I think I'm in love. _

"We're here. We're Queer. Get used to us. Hey bitches what are … Oh my God!" Santana's booming voice broke the two girls' reverie as she and Brittany came through the fence in Quinn's cordoned off back yard.

"My eyes! My eyes! Britt get a cold wash cloth. Call the emergency crew. Oh, Jesus, I think I shall never see again," Santana said as she dramatically held her head in her hands and then broke off, laughing loudly.

Quinn rolled her eyes at Santana's display, moving Rachel quickly to her side, both girls now standing primly in the shallow end. "Hi Satan," Rachel quipped.

"Midge," the Latina replied.

Brittany, who also had been smirking at her girlfriend, changed into a bright smile once she caught sight of Quinn and Rachel. "Ooooh. Look what San bought me today. It's so I don't drown if I get too tired swimming," the dancer said as she threw a large yellow rubber duck float into the pool.

Rachel, irritated at Santana for not only scaring the bejesus out of she and Quinn but also for killing the mood they were in, accidentally snipped a bit at Brittany. "A bright yellow duck float really isn't representative of a true indigenous wild duck, Brittany. You know, the kind you are fond of dragging all of us to voyeur at the local pond. Do you know anything about ducks, except as babies they are sometimes yellow, cute and fuzzy?"

Santana's ire was raised. She didn't like anyone getting smart with her Britt-Britt. Especially the Midge. She actually hadn't needed to worry. Brittany definitely knew how to take care of herself.

"Well, actually Rachel, while the wood duck is considered by many bird watchers to be North America's most colorful waterfowl species, its scientific name is Aix sponsa, which translates into 'water bird in a bridal dress.'" Rachel looked at Brittany as if she had grown a second head.

Much to Rachel's chagrin, the blonde continued rapturously. "Writings from the early 19th century indicate that wood ducks were in abundant supply and very popular for their tasty meat and bright decorative feathers, which was just mean and kinda icky. By the late 1880's, unregulated hunting and destruction of woodland and wetland habitat had caused the wood duck population to decline to alarmingly low levels. By the beginning of the 20th century, wood ducks had virtually disappeared from much of their former range."

_Okay, I'm in some alternate universe. What the hell is Brittany going on about and why does she sound intelligent? I didn't even realize she knew what the word "abundant" means._ Do-de-do-do Do-de-do, the theme from the Twilight Zone began to play in Rachel's brain.

Brittany began to smirk at the look on Rachel's face. She couldn't help herself. She continued. "In response to the Migratory Bird Treaty established in 1916 and enactment of the Federal Migratory Bird Treaty Act in 1918, wood duck populations began to slowly recover. By ending unregulated hunting and taking measures to protect remaining habitat, wood duck populations began to rebound in the 1920's. Which was really cool."

Rachel got out of the pool and sank to a nearby lounge chair and gave Santana a "what the hell?" look. The Latina grinned at her with attitude. The corners of Brittany's mouth now began to tug up into a big ole grin. She was on a roll.

"The development of the artificial nesting box in the 1930's gave an additional boost to wood duck production. Wood ducks eagerly accepted boxes as suitable nesting sites, and over the following fifty years, conservation groups and individuals helped increase numbers of wood ducks by preserving habitat and erecting nest boxes. The combination of hunting restrictions and habitat conservation and management measures enabled wood duck populations to rebound enough to support conservative hunting in the 1940's. The story of the wood duck is an example of how active wildlife management techniques can have a tremendous effect on the overall success of an individual species. So see Rach, ducks are cool, cute and fuzzy, but they are much, much more than that."

Rachel nodded her head dumbly. Quinn had been looking on with a smirk of her own.

"Sometimes things aren't always as they appear," Santana commented, looking at Rachel pointedly. "Okay, who's up for a tequila shot?"

Rachel shook her head, as if to clear it as one would adjust an antenna on a fuzzy radio. "Uh, sorry Brittany, I didn't mean to snap at you."

"All is forgiven Rach. Just remember that I know my shit. Duck shit, that is." All four girls began to holler and laugh together.

"Okay. Seriously. Who wants a tequila shot?" Santana asked again. Rachel curled up her nose in disgust. Quinn grinned and then faltered, slightly. Surprisingly, it was Brittany who took control.

"Okay Quinn, we need salt shakers, a cutting board, a sharp serrated knife and four shot glasses. Chop Chop," the blonde said. Quinn just nodded and headed for the kitchen, Brittany in tow.

"Once the two blondes were out of ear shot Santana turned on Rachel. "Okay Midge. Fess up. What was that display in the pool? Looks like you and the Ice Queen were close to getting your mack on."

"Don't call her that and if a certain pair of bubble heads hadn't shown up at that extraordinarily inopportune time perhaps I would have something to tell you," Rachel said with a frown.

"Oh. Shit. Cock-blocked you. Sorry Midge."

"And what the fuck was all that with Brittany?" Rachel asked. "I would have never thought she would know all that information about ducks, or any subject for that matter."

"Brittany knows a lot more than she lets on," the Latina replied with a grin. "Let's just leave it at that." The small diva surrendered with a nod.

"Lick it, slam it, suck it," Brittany chanted, coming out of the house holding four shot glasses. Behind her Quinn's hands were full with various accompaniments. The girls set their booty down on the tiki bar that was to the left of the lounge chairs and watched as Santana took a bottle out of her knapsack.

"Jose Cuervo Gold," the Latina said, almost reverently. "Best stuff on the planet." Rachel made a face.

"Don't even think about dissing on me and trying to get out of it Sparky," Santana scolded. "You're gonna take at least one or I'm gonna dump you in the deep end."

Rachel paled. She didn't know which was worse. The tequila shot or drowning.

Quinn reached over and grabbed her hand. "It's okay Rach. Just one and she'll leave you alone."

"Okay, but I think I will take you up on that offer for some juice. I'm going to need something to wash this down. I've heard that tequila tastes particularly musky and rather gross," Rachel visibly shuddered.

Quinn nodded and raced back to the kitchen to grab some juice for Rachel. Behind her back she heard Santana make a "whooshing" noise and turned to look at her. The Latina smirked. "Whipped much?" Brittany laughed and even Rachel produced a small smile. Quinn rolled her eyes and proceeded into the house.

Soon the four girls were all standing around the tiki bar, shot glasses in hand.

"Here's to blossoming friendships and lasting memories," Rachel said with a toothy grin.

"Whatever, Midge. Just suck it back," Santana said and downed the shot in one fell swoop. Brittany and Quinn followed, grabbing the salt and a lime to suck on. Rachel sipped at the drink and made a face, chasing it quickly with orange juice.

"Not like that Sparky. Suck it down. One motion. Get it done!"

Rachel frowned but did as the Latina commanded her. Her face began to turn red and she was coughing. "Ugh. How can you stand this stuff?" the diva asked as she quickly downed her glass of orange juice to rid herself the lingering taste of tequila. "Blech."

"It'll get you there. Just wait," Brittany said with a goofy smile.

"Okay, pool time," Quinn announced. Just as the Santana and Brittany were disrobing and Quinn and Rachel were making their way into the pool once again, a dark cloud rumbled through and the temperature dropped noticeably.

"Aw shit. Really?" Santana asked, disappointedly.

Brittany pouted. "I wanted to try out my ducky float. San…"

Above, thunder started to rumble and the girls could feel several rain drops hit their skin.

"Ladies, I say we carry this party indoors," Quinn suggested. Rachel nodded vehemently.

Gathering up all of their things, the four proceeded into the house as the storm started kicking up noticeably, the wind whipping fiercely. "Man, that happened quick," Santana complained.

"Maybe it will blow over just as quickly," Brittany suggested.

"I hate storms," Rachel whimpered. Quinn noticed that the small diva was actually a little frightened. Walking over she pulled Rachel into a light hug.

"So bitches, what we gonna do?" Santana asked.

"Monopoly!" Brittany exclaimed, clapping her hands wildly. Quinn shook her head. She was NOT in the mood to play Monopoly.

"How about a movie?" the blonde suggested.

"I'm not sure that's wise Quinn," Rachel said. "I mean, what if there is lightening? It could ruin your television."

"That's why they make surge protectors," the Latina answered with a smile and received one in turn from Quinn.

"It'll be fine Rach. Now, let's go to the den and we can all pick out a movie."

The four were fighting over what movie to watch. Quinn and Santana both wanted to watch a scary movie but Rachel said that would just make her even more frightened. Pulling a movie out of Santana's knapsack, Brittany decided for them.

"What, exactly, is this?" Quinn asked as Santana slipped the DVD into the machine.

"We haven't seen it yet, but I hear it's awesome," Brittany answered. "It's called Elena Undone."

The title rolled around in Rachel's mind.

"It's a lesbian movie," Brittany said brightly.

Uh. Oh.

"Britt, I'm not so sure this is an acceptable movie for us to watch. I mean, it's . . ." Rachel began.

"Shut it Midge or, would you rather watch Texas Chainsaw Massacre 10?" Santana threatened. Rachel gulped and instantly quieted down. _This is my life. This is my life. This is my life. I'm here with Quinn, who I can't seem to keep my hands off. Brittany and Santana are already like constantly watching free porn, it's storming outside and my hormones are blazing. This is my life. This is my life. This is my life. I'm so completely fucked. _

A quarter of the way into the movie, Quinn sitting beside her but the two trying desperately not to get too close to one another, Rachel realized that the movie was actually very well done. The story was awesome. Soulmetry. She liked it. It really made sense. It doesn't matter the gender of the person. If they are your soul mate, then they are your soul mate. Male or female. It was really hitting home with Rachel.

The small diva turned to look at Quinn with interest. _She's so beautiful. I'm so comfortable with her. Wow. Who thought I would ever be comfortable with Quinn Fabray? I think I may be falling . . . _

Realizing she was being stared at, Quinn turned to look at the small girl beside her. She smiled and took Rachel's hand in her own. _Yeah, now that feels right. This movie is great. Rachel's hand is so soft. _

When the movie proceeded to what the trailer had proclaimed was "the longest kiss ever filmed," Quinn's grip on Rachel's hand grew tighter. Both girls started to breathe heavier and shifted closer to one another. Damn, now that was one hell of a kiss, both thought as they watched the actors on screen.

Once again Quinn started to turn to Rachel. Both girls were leaning in, closer and closer, and DAMN.

Santana screamed like, well, a girl, as one hell of a large lightning bolt efficiently hit a nearby transformer, casting the four girls into pitch black darkness.

Well, shit, Quinn thought.


	8. Chapter 8

**Disclaimer: Come on, we all know that I don't own them. Damn! **

**Author's Notes: I cannot express how much I truly appreciate everyone who is taking the time to read my story. Thank you. And also thank you to those who have also taken the time to review it. Now – go play and enjoy! **

**Character's thoughts in italics**

**Rated: M **

**I Can Feel You, Chapter 8**

**It's a subtitle**

The four girls were sitting in the dark, unmoving. Well, at least two of them were. Rachel and Quinn could hear some faint rustling from their right, a few giggles and a low groan from Santana. Lightening flashed around them, illuminating the inside of the den briefly every few minutes. "God, I'm glad we weren't watching Texas Chainsaw Massacre 10," Rachel whispered. Quinn giggled slightly.

Quinn carefully stood from the couch and felt her way blindly to the movie cabinet. There she found a small flashlight, which she quickly turned on, shining it toward the couch. Rachel sat looking a little dazed. Quinn smiled and panned the flashlight beam around the room, briefly focusing on Santana and Brittany. Brittany was fully on top of Santana, kissing the hell out of her and her hand was under her t-shirt. Quinn blushed profusely and moved the light back to Rachel.

"Hey, Rach. Let's go into the kitchen. Mom has some candles there, k?"

Rachel didn't question her. She had seen what Brittany and Santana were engaged in and frankly she didn't care to see any more of it. Or hear any more of it, for that matter.

Quinn led them through the house with the small flashlight. Once they were in the kitchen she began sifting through one of the cabinets until she found a Yankee candle and a match. She lit the candle and the kitchen took on a soft glow. Rachel was sitting at the bar stool near the kitchen island.

"They certainly aren't shy, are they?" Rachel smirked, referring to the Latina and her dancer.

Quinn chuckled. "They never have been. Kinda makes me uncomfortable sometimes, ya know?"

Rachel shook her head in the affirmative.

Quinn sat beside her. "That was a great movie. Too bad our day has turned into one giant storm." As if the heavens heard her another lightning bolt hit a little close to home and Rachel squeaked, throwing herself at the blonde. Surprised, Quinn barely caught her, pulling her up by the waist.

Embarrassed, Rachel began to apologize, but didn't move from the blonde.

"It's okay Rach. We're all scared of something. Me, I hate spiders. They are just creepy as hell. I don't care if they're minute; to me they are always 'as big as my head.'"

Rachel giggled and looked at the former HBIC. She couldn't imagine that Quinn was scared of anything, especially a little ole spider. "Really? Or are you just saying that to make me feel like less of a wimp?"

Quinn shook her head and tightened her grip on Rachel. The soft light danced across the room, making the moment feel surreal. Once again Quinn found herself becoming lost in the brunette's eyes.

"Quinn," Rachel whispered softly, "What is this, exactly?"

"I . . . I'm not sure. I just. I," the blonde was having trouble forming her words. "I just really want to kiss you right now."

The small diva faltered slightly. She couldn't believe this was happening. Just two weeks ago Quinn was laughing when she was slushied and now here she was, in the Fabray kitchen, pressed up tightly against the ex-cheerio who was looking at her with nothing less than want.

Ever so slowly Rachel drew the blonde in, running her hand along Quinn's jawline. She reached up, hesitantly, standing on her tiptoes, and . . .

"Well fuck ladies! Way to leave us in the dark!" Santana 's voice boomed across the kitchen, her hand attached to Brittany's, who was trailing behind her with a huge grin plastered across her face.

"Do you have a bedroom in this mansion?" Rachel whispered, totally ignoring the Latina and forcing Quinn to maintain eye contact.

"Uh, yeah," Quinn squeaked.

"Do you think you could show me where it is?" the small diva answered.

Quinn nodded dumbly, taking Rachel's hand and steering her toward the staircase. As the girls exited the kitchen Rachel looked at Santana and Brittany pointedly. Both girls had their mouths hanging open.

"Ladies, I'm sure you can find something to occupy your time," the singer said pointedly, eyes focusing specifically on Santana. "Quinn and I have some unfinished business and I would deeply appreciate it if we were not interrupted. AGAIN." The two girls just nodded. Brittany actually had the decency to blush.

Quinn's legs were jelly. _Oh my God. Rachel wants to see my bedroom. Why does Rachel want to see my bedroom? Shit. I just realized I'm gay for Berry and now I'm leading her to my bedroom? Shit. God, she's hot. _

The blonde led the singer through her bedroom door. Once they entered she heard Rachel close and lock the door behind them. Quinn walked over to a candle on her bedside table and lit it. She turned slowly to say something to the brunette but found Rachel standing just a few inches behind her. Quinn visibly gulped.

"So," Rachel said quietly, "You said something about a kiss?"

Quinn nodded shyly and found herself looking into dark eyes.

Rachel moved closer, impossibly closer, and once again put her hand on the side of Quinn's face. _Her skin is so smooth. I love the way she feels. I never felt this way with Finn, or Jesse, or even Puck. Why do I feel this way? It's like she's cast a spell on me. Oh God, her lips are so sexy. I wonder if . . . _

Not being able to help herself, Rachel made the first move. Instead of chastely kissing Quinn or giving her a small peck, she chose to run her tongue along Quinn's bottom lip. The former cheerleader moaned softly. Rachel's confidence surged. She did it again. Another moan. Quinn retaliated, running her tongue along Rachel's top lip and plunging herself into Rachel's waiting mouth, sucking her in. The small diva's legs gave way slightly and her entire body felt as if it were on fire. _Damn, way to kiss Fabray._

Quinn didn't know exactly how it happened but Rachel was soon on her bed with Quinn fully on top of her, the blonde's hands running up and down the diva's sides as she continued to assault the diva's mouth. Rachel whimpered slightly and moved her legs until they completely encased Quinn.

The blonde drew back and looked at Rachel intently. "You are the one who is beautiful," she whispered. Rachel felt like she was liquid heat. Quinn's tongue circled a particularly sensitive earlobe and Rachel let out an elongated sigh, much to her embarrassment. It was quickly erased as she attached her lips to Quinn's exposed neck, receiving a similar sigh in return.

She began to work her way down to Quinn's collarbone, nipping lightly and giving her little kisses along the way. Her fingers worked on the blonde's back, writing stories of enchantment as Quinn bucked above her, losing herself in all that was and is Rachel.

"Qu…" the brunette exhaled languidly. "Quinn!" she said more forcefully. The blonde stopped her movements, especially in the hand department as she realized her traitorous extremities were taking on a life of their own, coming closer and closer to the sides of Rachel's breasts.

"Oh. God. Sorry Rach. I," Quinn began, disentangling herself from the brunette. She didn't mean to push and let her hands wander where they weren't welcome.

"No," Rachel pouted, pulling Quinn back on top of her. She took a shaky breath and once again looked into hazel orbs. "I don't want you to stop but I need you to be aware if we continue on _I_ may not be able to stop. Do you understand?" She finished the mini-ramble with a quick kiss to Quinn's hard jawline, her tongue jutting out just slightly, making contact with the warm flesh above her.

Quinn trembled and felt herself weaken. She wanted nothing more at that moment than to simply "take" Rachel, but it was just a little too soon for her sensibilities. "I . . ." the blonde began, meeting deep brown, almost black, eyes. Rachel reached up and licked the bottom of Quinn's lip and, well, shit, the blonde lost her resolve.

Quivering, the blonde enveloped Rachel in a deep, hot and wet kiss. The brunette groaned, fire licking down the inside of Quinn's throat and settling deep in her abdomen. Quinn's right hand pushed beneath the diva's shirt and came to rest on the top of her breast, squeezing lightly.

"Oh God, Rach, You feel so good baby," the words fell out of Quinn's mouth before she had a chance to bite them back. The brunette gently shifted and raised her knee, the blonde's center coming into contact and both girls moaning loudly.

Rachel's eyes flew open and stared deeply into Quinn's.

"You're so wet," Rachel whispered, moving her knee gently and forcing a jolt of pleasure to run throughout Quinn's body. The singer was in awe. She was making Quinn Fabray actually feel something and from the looks of the hot mess on top of her Quinn wasn't complaining. For Quinn, well, she had never been so aroused in her life.

Finding her voice, low and husky, Quinn tugged on Rachel's earlobe with her teeth. 'Let's find out how wet_ you_ are, Berry." Rachel inhaled sharply as she felt Quinn's hand trail from her breast to her stomach to the waistband of her shorts. There was no way she was stopping this. It felt too damn good and she finally realized something vitally important. _I've always wanted her. Every day, every hour. Even when she was calling me names. Just simply forever. Christ, I think I'm in love. I think I may have always been in love with her. _

Quinn's hand played at the waistband of Rachel's shorts, hesitating. Hot kisses were traded back and forth, Rachel scraping her teeth roughly over Quinn's bottom lip. Quinn one-handedly unbuttoned the top of the small diva's shorts and slowly eased the zipper down. Rachel was squirming beneath her in an attempt to help. It happened just as Quinn was about to make a move southward.

The door to Quinn's bedroom burst open and two teenage girls blindly ran in, shutting the door behind them.

Quinn and Rachel looked up in a non-verbalized "What The Hell?" moment. Santana and Brittany stood there, awkwardly, staring at the other two girls, who were now shifting around on the bed, embarrassed.

"Satan, you are so dead," the diva said, flushed. Quinn was staring daggers.

"Q, your mom. She's here. She just pulled into the driveway. Shit!" Brittany relayed.

Quinn's eyes widened. Rachel felt slightly sick to her stomach. Santana was actually pale.

"Hurry Q, S, Rach. Come on. Get out the Monopoly game. Damn. Do I have to do all the thinking around here?" Brittany said with a smirk.

As the four girls scrambled around Quinn's room, setting up the Monopoly game on the floor of Quinn's room, fixing the bed, Rachel fixing her hair and her clothes, Quinn shaking herself mentally, Santana stopped abruptly. The sound of the downstairs door slamming, high heels clicking on hardwood as Quinn's mother, Judy Fabray, called, "Quinny, Honey? Are you here?"

"Shit," Santana said under her breath.

"What S?" Quinn questioned.

"The tequila Q. The tequila. We never cleaned up. Fuck, we are so screwed," the Latina lamented.

"I almost was," Rachel let slip. Three heads shot to the small diva. "What?" she said innocently.

Quinn blushed.


	9. Chapter 9

Disclaimers: Don't Own 'Em.

Rating: M

Author's Note: I am very sorry it has taken me this long to update. Life has been a little crazy as of late. Thank you all for continuing to read.

_Character's thoughts in italics._

**I Can Feel You, Chapter Nine**

_**A Game of Chance**_

"Well, haul your ass downstairs and get the damn bottle," Quinn hissed at Santana. "Be ninja-like, for God's sake. We'll keep Mom busy. Just say you have to go pee, or something. " Quinn could hear her mother coming up the stairs. She was getting closer now. The four girls had thrown the Monopoly board on Quinn's carpet. Money, dice and property pieces were lying here and there. A Chance card was stuck to Rachel's tank top.

"Quinn, what are you . . ." Judy Fabray asked as she walked in and observed the four girls sitting innocently in the middle of Quinn's room, a Yankee candle at the center of the game board, its flickers illuminating the room and casting shadows. "Oh."

"Hey Mom. Did you have a nice day? That's quite a storm, isn't it?" Quinn ventured.

Judy Fabray smiled widely. "It's a little crazy. Yeah," she answered. "Have you girls had anything to eat?"

Santana got up lazily, stretching as if she had been sitting on the floor for hours. "Hey Judes, feel like sitting in for me while I run to the bathroom. I don't trust these three not to cheat," the Latina smirked, making her way by Judy Fabray and scampering down the stairs. Judy didn't even think to question the fact that there was a bathroom off Quinn's room.

"So, who is winning?" Judy questioned as she hunkered down over the game board. All three girls looked at her with wide eyes.

"Um… well Rachel kinda is in the lead," Quinn fumbled.

"Yeah, she's definitely got it going on," Brittany added. "She's been messing with Q pretty hard." A giant, knowing, if not lecherous, grin appeared on the dancers face. Rachel blushed.

"Yeah… um…" Rachel said red-faced. "Well, I do like to play games …. Ahhh… board games that is." She looked to Judy with a bright smile. Quinn's mother smiled back, with a little apprehension. Quinn rolled her eyes.

A slightly out of breath Latina reappeared in the bedroom doorway. "All done Judes," she smirked. "Did I hear you say something about food? What's Mama Fabray got cooking in that culinary mind of hers?" It was well known that Judy could create a gourmet feast out of basically nothing.

Judy's eyes cut to the bedroom window. The rain had stopped and a low light was beginning to creep its way back over Lima. The electricity, however, had not returned.

"Cook-out?" Judy asked. "We have some chicken breasts in the fridge and I believe some fresh corn and other vegetables in the crisper."

"Oh, Hells to the Yes, Judes," Santana replied. "I loves me some barbecue. Come on, I'll help." She reached over and helped the older woman up off the floor, gently steering her out of the room. She paused for a second and threw a smirk over her shoulder at the three girls still sitting around the Monopoly board. All three rolled their eyes at her and smirked back.

When Santana and her mother disappeared down the hallway Quinn's eyes cut sharply to the other blonde. "How the hell did you two get in my LOCKED room?," she hissed lowly, a slight blush on her normally pale cheeks.

Brittany smiled hugely. "Santana's hair!"

"Ay Dios Mio," Quinn sighed, channeling her inner-Santana.

Rachel gave the two an odd look. "Santana's hair?"

"Yeah, she carries stuff in it," Brittany explained. "A lot of people say she has razor blades in there, but they don't know about the nail files, bobby pins, or the extra money she hides so we can buy food for the duckies!"

Rachel just looked at her strangely and began to stand up. "Yeah, ok. Whatever."

"Come on, let's go down and help with dinner," the dancer said, bouncing up from the floor and disappearing out of the room.

Quinn and Rachel got to their feet, looking at each other awkwardly.

"Well …. Ahh," Quinn began.

"Yeah, I, uh… I guess I should probably g …" the singer began.

"No!" Quinn semi-shouted. She blushed profusely. Her heart felt it would beat out of her chest. She closed her eyes slightly and tried to calm her breathing. "What I mean," she began again, "is I would really like you to stay….that is….if you want to." She ventured a glance at the diva. She was met with Rachel's award-winning smile. The singer gave her a shy nod and reached for her hand.

The blonde grinned back and encased the smaller hand within her own as she led her out of the room.

_**Not That Into That**_

Santana groaned loudly as she sat back in the lounge chair and rubbed her protruding belly. "I'm going to die," she stated adamantly.

Brittany gave her a sympathetic look and reached over to rub the Latina's belly herself. "It's okay Sanny," she said. "I got you."

Rachel smiled at them sweetly. Quinn rolled her eyes.

"What Tubbers …. Just cause the Midge isn't rubbing your…" the Latina began.

Quinn cut an eye to her Mom, whose head popped up at the comment. Santana's eyes got big. "Um… yeah." Sometimes she just needed to learn to keep her big mouth shut.

Rachel cut in. "I must say Mrs. Fabray this was quite the feast. While I am a strict vegan and, obviously did not partake in the chicken dish, I was so incredibly pleased at the wide selection of fresh vegetables that you provided. They were like a symphony to my taste buds. So fresh, so completely delicious." Judy beamed at the small diva. Sometimes it paid to be extraordinarily verbose, if for nothing else than distraction.

"So, Rachel," Judy began. "How long have you been a vegan and what made you decide to pursue that lifestyle?" The UnHoly Trinity collectively sighed. Great, Judy opened a door, providing Rachel the perfect opportunity to postulate endlessly.

"Oh My! Do you not know the terrible consequences of living a meat eating lifestyle Mrs. Fabray?" Full diva mode now, Rachel became animated. "Meat is terribly hard to digest and not at all good for your arteries and internal organs. You know, once upon a time we were a grain, fruit and vegetable eating society and much healthier for it." Quinn watched as her mother become puzzled.

"But, I thought the earliest civilizations' survival depended on both hunters and gatherers," Judy began, quickly cut off by Rachel's continuing rant.

"Also," the diva continued, "there is the moral obligation we have as a civilized society to protect innocents. Specifically animals. Do you know the terrible trauma and cruelty our society projects onto cattle, poultry and even fish in its quest to satisfy its craving for flesh? In these slaughter houses chickens have their beaks taken off at birth so they won't peck their …."

"Hold up Midge," Santana interrupted.

Rachel looked put off. She was in mid-rant. "Yes, Satan?" she spat.

"You know," Santana looked to Rachel gently, diffusing some of the diva's passion. "What you're basically saying is that you're not a meat eater in any way, shape or form, right? And the reason you're not a meat eater is because you don't feel that it's good for your body or your soul, right?"

"Why yes, Santana! In a nutshell, that's what I'm trying to say," Rachel answered. "But, it's much, much more than that."

Santana nodded. Judy looked relieved that the Latino had interrupted.

"I'm a vegan too," Brittany interjected. All four heads shot up and looked at Brittany, baffled.

"Uh, Britt… you just ate two pieces of chicken," Quinn stated.

"Yeah, but when I was dating Artie I realized that meat wasn't good for my body or soul and that's why I started dating San. I just wasn't that into that. I'm glad Quinn recently realized she was a vegan too. Now we're all vegans. It's like a club" the blonde said happily.

Quinn sank lower in her chair. Rachel's eyes grew wide. Santana gave a strangled laugh.

"Well," Judy said, ignoring Brittany's comment and standing up. "I think I'm going to start cleaning up."

"I'll help Mrs. Fabray," Rachel said, quickly standing up. Judy put her hand on the diva's arm and smiled. "It's okay. You girls enjoy yourselves. I got this."

The foursome did help Judy move the dishes into the house and then were shooed away by the older Fabray.

The rest of the day was spent with the four playing in the pool, sunning themselves and all four flirting innocently with each other. Despite the storm it had turned out to be a really good day.

As the day turned to evening the four found themselves back in Quinn's den, this time watching Annie, which happened to be Santana's favorite musical, even if she wouldn't admit it. Judy had joined them. Rachel was amused when, out of the corner of her eye, she caught Santana mouthing the words to "Little Girls." Caught, the Latina smirked and threw a pillow at her.

Eventually it was time to call it a day. Judy retreated to the kitchen to clean up popcorn bowls and soda glasses, bidding the three a good evening.

Santana and Brittany retreated out the back door, Santana discreetly picking up the tequila bottle from where she had hid it in the rose bushes. Hands interlocked with Santana, Brittany reached over and kissed both Rachel and Quinn on their cheeks. Santana's brow furrowed and she pulled the dancer along. "Later bitches," she said as they took off down the road. Quinn and Rachel watched as Brittany began to skip, pulling the Latina behind her. They both laughed.

Rachel walked to the gate. Her car was parked at the front of Quinn's house.

"Well. I guess this is good night then," the diva said.

"Yeah," Quinn answered, looking into her eyes.

"Quinn?"

"Rachel . . .," the blonde began, finding herself being pulled closer to the diva.

The small brunette reached up and placed a sweet kiss on the side of the ex-cheerio's mouth. "I had a really good time," she whispered.

"Me too," Quinn replied shyly.

"I'll see you Monday?" the diva questioned.

"Definitely," Quinn said, pulling herself out of the daze she was in. "Have a good Sunday Rach."

"You too," the brunette replied sweetly, exiting the gate. Quinn watched as she walked down the side driveway to the front of the house. Rachel kept glancing back, realizing the blonde was still watching her. A large smile took over her face. She looked back once more and Quinn waved shyly, disappearing around the back of the house.

The diva grinned to herself as she slid into the driver's seat of her car. This was a good day.

Quinn stopped on the back porch before she went into the house. _I just spent the entire day with Rachel Berry and I want more._ Quinn grinned broadly. _Oh My God! I almost slept with Rachel Berry! Holy Fuck!_ The blonde began to pace back and forth in a slight panic. _I am so going to get kicked out. Fuck! I'm gay. Holy Shit! Ay Dios Mio! Why do I keep channeling Santana? Dammit! Stop it Quinn! Stop it! Shit! What am I going to say to my Mom? Mom is NOT stupid. I'm going to kill Santana and Brittany. What the fuck was up with that vegan comment? Brittany is not _that _stupid! _

Quinn was starting to hyperventilate a bit. She sat down on one of the rockers leaning up against the house. Her head was in her hands. What was she going to do? She could lie, tell her Mom that Brittany was just being Brittany and she didn't know what was up with Santana. Yeah. That could work. But, did she really want to lie? Did she really want to continue to not be true to herself? Did she really want to find herself in Puck's basement again? UGH!

Quinn just about jumped out of her skin when she felt a cool hand on her neck. Looking up, she was surprised to see the look on her mom's face. It was filled with concern.

"Mom?" she questioned.

"Quinn, I have something very important to say to you and I really want you to hear what I'm about to say and take it seriously," Judy began.

_Oh No! Here it comes! A one way ticket to being homeless again._ Quinn sighed. She looked at her Mom expectantly, tears beginning to form.

"If you are going to date that Berry girl then I strongly suggest you use part of your allowance to invest in some duct-tape! I refuse to listen to her rants every time I ask her a simple question!"

Quinn's jawed dropped and happy tears flowed freely.


End file.
